Bad Luck With a Little Luck
by CarmellaD'Winter
Summary: SchueBerry: What happens when one ordinary Glee Club rehearsal goes drastically wrong, and leaves the lives of teacher and student changed forever. Will lives with consuming guilt, Rachel with pleading confusion. They run away but this isn't the worse of their problems: it all comes down to that night, society and their own fears.
1. Chapter One: One More Song

**HI there everyone. I know (at the time of writing) I have "The Princess and the Peasant" and "Mi Vida…Not So Loca" to finish writing, but I've had this idea floating around for a while and I was going to wait until I had written a lot more of it before posting it. Unlike the previous two (at the time of writing) I haven't got absolute clear endings – I know where I want them to go but haven't quite structured them yet, especially "Mi Vida…Not So Loca". However, this story is completely mapped out so I wanted to write it and upload it.**

**This story is rated M because of the difficult topics raised/mentioned/written. I won't give away a plot, however quitter early on there is a big even that shapes the whole story which is a catalyst for everything else in the story to happen. Things to come in the story are slightly 'triggering' (I think that's what it's called) such as spiralling mental health issues and certain difficult topics that might not be discussed or talked about a lot in public (in my opinion). **

**Now, due to my age (nineteen) I don't know about everything that would 'really happen' that will go on in my story, however I do like to research things so that it has is the most realistic I can make it. Having said that, not all information will be correct or right, so if anything is truly 'not accurate' or 'right' then please, drop me a message either in a review or a private message. I generally accept all criticisms and feedback, but I find it a bit annoying when 'Guests' log on because I like to reply to my reviews, purely just to say thank you and to gage what they like – of course, I'm not discouraging 'Guest' reviews! Any and all reviews are appreciated so thank you in advance. **

**All that being said, please enjoy the story and I apologise in advance for lack of updates; I'm coming to the end of my first year at university and I'm a bit of geek when it comes to work! **

**Thank you! Carmella :) **

**Chapter One:**

**One More Song**

Monday afternoons at around five o'clock were usually quiet. Especially considering this particular school had finished an hour ago. Of course, like most schools there were after school clubs and teachers who were staying behind so they could grade their papers away from their messy and loud families. However, six o'clock on a Monday afternoon, even at this school, was definitely usually quiet. The parking lot would be empty and the janitors would have gone home, turning the lights off and locking up the doors as they left. If the janitors had turned the lights off and locked the doors, then that certainly meant that the kids who went to the school would be long gone. They would be at home; studying or playing on their computers or hanging out with friends, possibly helping their parents prepare dinner or looking after siblings. But in this school, at six o'clock on a Monday afternoon in the middle of October, one club was still working hard; despite the fact they could have gone home two hours ago.

William McKinley High School was the somewhat proud owner of an all singing, all dancing Glee Club. It was this club where thirteen of the school's teenagers were practicing their hopefully showcase showstopper for their latest competition. At the forefront of the particular routine they were practicing, was their Captain; Rachel Berry. The small brunette was bright, bubbly and incredibly ambitious. Her mind was – and had always been – set on the bright lights Broadway. By the age of three (apparently) she had already mastered the knowledge of most of her idol's movies, Barbra Streisand, and by the age of ten she knew all the major songs on Broadway and could receipt all of the favourite ones. Where her fathers – yes, plural – were proud of their little girl's ambition and drive for stardom, others around her were not quite so encouraging. When she was younger, she was picked on for her vocabulary and bizarre dress sense (which consisted of tartan/plaid skirts, knee high socks and sweaters with animals on them). During her first two years of high school, she was pelted with ice cold drinks called 'Slushies' which would stain her clothes (different sizes, the same styles from when she was younger) and be called ridiculous and hurtful names: Treasure-trail, Manhands, Ru-Paul but to name a few. It was a strange twist of fate, but thanks to the Glee Club her biggest enemies – the Cheerios – were now her friends. Together, for most of them in their senior year, they were all working hard to try and beat their rivals: Vocal Adrenaline.

They had all had experience with the team, but Rachel more so than anyone. Not only had she dated their own captain and star performer, Jessie St James, but their coach just so happened to be Rachel's biological mother: Shelby Corcoran. Where they both had imagined a heart-warming, Broadway musical inspired reconnection, it didn't happen. Shelby wanted her baby girl, not her teenage girl and their dreams of joining together and mother/daughter bond had been broken. Rachel was not only left feeling abandoned but depressed. To add insult to injury, the (at the time ex) Head Cheerio, and Rachel's (now) friend Quinn Fabray gave birth to a daughter and Shelby adopted her. Beth was Rachel's replacement and the two hadn't spoken or heard a word from each other since. The classically beautiful blonde haired, green eyed girl became slow friends with Rachel after the birth and adoption of her daughter: together they mourned the loss of someone special to them but also bonded on the fact that their special person was allowed to live the life wanted and deserved. As well as Rachel and Shelby no longer being in contact, she and Jessie hadn't spoken since he had pelted her with eggs in the school parking lot after a particularly bad break up. So, the New Directions wanted to go all the way and win, especially for their senior year, but no one quite more so than Rachel.

As well as Rachel and the rest of the club wanting to win all of their (upcoming) performances and competitions, their Glee Club director William 'Will' Schuster wanted them to gain trophies and prestige. He had fought hard for the club in regard to it being created and it lasting. The Cheerio's coach and the school's most frightening teacher, Sue Sylvester, had an unexplainable vendetta against the club. She wanted to destroy them in any way she could. She sent her Cheerios to the club to sabotage it from the inside, rigged votes and destroyed equipment from the outside. Will just couldn't figure out what it was that made her hate the club so much. But, he didn't care: as long as his kids were happy and they bounced back, then curly brunette man was prepared to keep on fighting until all of his kids were beaming and cheering at their victories. They all had the collective want to win at Nationals, but they also had their personal wants and the Glee Club, New Directions, was able to help them achieve with their goals.

There a boy named Artie Abrams who, thanks to a car accident when he was eight years old, was stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Where he once wanted to become a dancer, he now had a new dream of becoming a film director. He already helped direct the school's (cancelled) musical and had made several short films with his friend and fellow Glee Clubber Tina. She herself used to be so shy she stuttered whenever she had the small amount of courage to speak. Now, thanks to New Directions, she could speak and sing in public, as well as to herself in private. She had even managed to snag a boyfriend in the form of Mike Chang; one of the four football players who were also in the club. Mike himself had always been a good dancer but was afraid to show off his skills to other people. The same with Mercedes Jones. She was a diva but had never had the full confidence or style to demonstrate herself. Kurt Hummel (football player and Glee Club Co-Captain Finn Hudon's step brother) and his newly transferred boyfriend Blaine Anderson were the only (open) gay teenagers in the entire school. Like Rachel they had suffered from the homophobic atmosphere of the school. Both boys loved to sing – Kurt being just as in love with Broadway as Rachel – and Blaine into more 'chart topping hits'. They found that, as well as following their dreams, Glee Club provided them with a safe bubble. Here they weren't judged or treated badly because of who they were. Now, like the rest of the club, after only two years (and now onto their third) they had the confidence and air to show the world their talents. And Will couldn't be more proud to showcase them in their competitions.

With it nearing ten past six, Will thought it was only fair to let the kids stop practicing and get on home. Where some only had school to get up for; the tall and 'clunky' male lead of the club Finn, the Mohawk 'stud' (and the father to Quinn's adopted daughter) Noah 'Puck' Puckerman, a blonde Tennessee native and Sci-Fi enthusiast Sam and Mike had football practice. As for the girls, Quinn, the quick and fiery (yet secretive) Latina, Santana Lopez and her innocent, brilliant dancer best friend Brittany Peirce needed to be up early for a vigorous and gruelling Cheerios practice. The other kids may not have had early morning commitments, but he certainly didn't want them to skip out on homework assignments because he kept them in school too long. He had, of course, gotten permission from his students' parents asking for them to be able to stay behind for practice once a week, due to their competition being in the next few weeks, but he still didn't want any of them to fall behind.

"All right guys that was awesome!" Mr Schuster announced with a laugh in his voice and clapping his hands wildly. The competition was only two weeks away. The kids had a week long break after this week was up, and Will was 'allowing them' to rest and have fun, before they would be back to more intense rehearsals. Some of the kids – namely Santana and Puck – complained about how hard they were working, even though they were going up against "Sucky singers" in this round, as well as Vocal Adrenaline. Once again Will had told them that they always had to work hard as if they were going up against Broadway stars and celebrity singers: something that Rachel echoed and took greatly to heart. To play to the other members of the club, Will also compared their efforts to winning against professional football players and (if there were such a things) professional cheerleaders. If playing to their 'idols' didn't work, then simply reminding them that if they won it meant they would get less teasing and would have something good to put on their college applications, would.

Looking at his tired out but extremely talented 'bunch of misfits', as they had been called on several occasions by the school's principle, simply known as Figgins, Will could not hold his wide grin back. He was so proud of them. Every time one of them perfected a dance move or hit a new note or just made a new improvement on themselves – whether it in school or their personal lives – he felt like the proud father he always wanted to be. Two years ago, when most of his Glee Kids were just little sophomores, he was so close to being a father. His now ex-wife had lied to him about being pregnant, simply because she was paranoid about her high school sweetheart being tempted by a co-worker. She stooped so low, that she was almost successful in convincing "The knocked up Fabray girl" Quinn, into giving her the baby she was carrying so that she would carry on with the lie. Thankfully, Will had found out about the scheme before anything too serious happened. The only problem was, he was now a thirty something divorcee and was losing hope on love and a domestic future. Now whenever his mind dragged him back to think of that particularly dark moment in his life he looked to his singing students and felt his heart swell with pride. He was close to having one daughter, but now he had thirteen children. Thirteen children he was immensely proud of and loved to pieces. Even though they had not all got on at one point or another and had at one point been subjected to an apartheid – Cheerios and Jocks on one end of the social ladder and the geeks and nerds on the other – they had come and bonded together. They now mixed so well that it was almost as if they had never had a division. Like a well mended curtain, only if you looked really carefully and through squinted eyes, could you just about see the remains of separation. And yet as quickly as you see the line of difference, do you suddenly see the unity and togetherness the group had.

Troubles were ahead, but it was comforting to know that they were all bonded and friendly enough to know that they could get through anything together. They hoped anyway, especially for the two people that it would affect the most.

The clock had slowly ticked along again, and Mr Schuster let out a happy sigh. "All right guys," clapping his hands once again he straightened up, "Once again you were fantastic and I am sure that we are going to be awesome when it comes to Regionals!" His praise was met with a chorus of whoops and "Right back at you". Grinning at his club once more he pointed towards the door and jerked his thumb at it. "All right guys get out of here, good job." As they began to pack up their belongings he told them individually how proud he was of them. He walked up to Tina and Mike and congratulated them on their excellent choreographing and praising them on how quickly they had picked up the new changes Brittany had suggested just over twenty four hours ago. The Asian couple beamed at him and thanked him for his kind words, Mike slinging his and his girlfriend's bags over his shoulder and wrapping an arm around Tina's waist as they walked over to the door with small shuffling steps, clearly still feeling the rhythm and the beat of the music within them.

Sam and Mercedes were packing up their things and discussing their future weekend plans already when Will moved over to them, helping Artie put his backpack on the back of his wheelchair too. Puck also handed the boy a stack of games he promised he would lend him. Before talking to Sam and his girlfriend, Will high fived Artie and said how impressed he was with his new set of flashing lights on his wheels. The boy shrugged and said that the laddies "Digged" them, causing the teacher to laugh and argue back with "Whatever you say Artie!" The boy then promptly wheeled himself off to catch up with Mike and Tina, Puck following next to him calling a "Later Mr Schue" over his shoulder. Bending down slightly to the seated couple, he clapped Sam on the shoulder and nodded his head with pride as he congratulated them on their singing. Mercedes had come such a long way from being 'the final note' of the group. He was proud of her for allowing her inner diva to come out and shine. As Mercedes thanked him with a sassy comment and a huge lung filled chortle, Will turned to Sam and told him how his glad he was that he no longer relied on his 'abs' to get him through the glitz and glam of Glee Club. The blonde boy blushed a little but slyly looked over at Mercedes as he told him they were put to use every now and then.

Not wanting to hear any more, Will patted him on the shoulder again and made his way over to a pinky linked Brittany and Santana. He was exceptionally proud of his bubbly blonde student. She wasn't the brightest student he had ever met. In fact, it was no secret that she was struggling in a lot of her classes. It was amazing she was allowed to do Cheerios _and_ Glee Club, but it he put it down to two things: her impeccable dancing abilities and the help of her best friend; Santana. It was probably also not such a well-kept secret that Santana was helping Brittany a lot with her school work. As tough and 'badass' as the Latina tried to make herself out to be, her soft side was brought out of her by that blonde beauty. That soft side, however, was only reserved for Brittany and he respected that greatly. Where Santana would no doubt make an amazing lawyer or politician or something along those lines, Brittany would be one of the world's best choreographers and dancers; he knew that. She didn't need academic brains for that, just the brains she had that made her move like nature. As long as those two remained best friends, then the best they could be would be shown to the rest of the world.

As Will he praised Brittany for coming up with a more complicated and 'showy' line up of moves and for teaching the rest of the club them, he saw out of the corner of his eye the twinkling smile playing on Santana's lips. He could see the same pride in his favourite Latina's eyes as he wore every time he spoke to his favourite bubbly blonde. Knowing that they were more exhausted than most of the club due to their rigorous Cheerio's practice, he kept his praising short and simple and allowed them to be on their way: pinky linked and sharing hushed whispered giggles.

In a huddle in the middle of the room stood Finn and his brother Kurt with Blaine holding Kurt's hand, and allowing the slightly taller boy to rest his head on his shoulder. Finn was talking animatedly with hands – probably about football – when Will approached them. "Hey guys," he announced himself, standing next to Finn, "Great job with that new number. What did you guys think?" He always liked to ask the three boys their views on the song choices, purely because of their reactions. Finn always bobbed his head and dug his hands deep into his pockets as he told his favourite teacher just how "Awesome" the song choice was, Blaine would nod his head but would always hold his hands up in a claw like fashion and wave them in a circular motion as he squinted his eyes telling him once again how some of the songs were a little too cheesy or a little too emotional. Kurt would then of course slap his boyfriend on the arm and rant on about how no song can be too emotional, and then Will imagined him spending the rest of the night chewing Blaine's ear off about comparing the emotion and dramatics seen in both Broadway and today's modern music.

Much to his prediction, Finn wiped his brow and smiled his charming (yet sometimes dopey) smile and bobbed his head. "It was awesome Mr Schue," he looked briefly to his brother before turning back to his teacher and mentor, "Kurt and I were saying how this year we're totally gonna win this competition!" Mr Schuster smiled at his enthusiasm and told him how they needed to get the combination of hard work and rest just right, and then there would be no stopping them. The tall boy shrugged his huge football playing shoulders. "Yeah but we totally wiped the floor at all the other competitions we performed at, and so we're totally gonna rock this competition." Kurt nodded his perfectly styled head at his brother and turned to Mr Schue, still with his hand encased in his boyfriend Blaine's. "Finn's right Mr Schue, with all of this practise we've been slaving over and exhausting ourselves with, there is no way we are going to lose." All three boys smiled smugly at each other and then turned back to Mr Schuster. The man looked at their faces and knew that their confidence was well deserved. "Go on guys, get out here and get some rest. I hear Principle Figgins' morning assembly tomorrow is going to be rather...taxing." He chuckled and patted each boy on the back and said goodnight to them as they left.

Left in the room were only two members of the infamous New Directions in the choir room. Quinn and Rachel were sat at the piano where Brad was usually perched and were running through scales. Their relationship was the one that surprised him the most. Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry being friends. They really were on polar opposites. Not only in their looks and home lives, but of course with their social ranking at school. To Quinn, Rachel had always been the boyfriend manipulator or the girl with dreams too big for herself. To Rachel, Quinn had always been the All American Girl that all other girls should aspire to be like. He liked to think that their new found friendship wasn't completely down to the unfortunate circumstances regarding parenting and babies at the end of their sophomore year, but rather that they had just grown up and finally realised that they were more similar than they were different. All of his kids had grown into wonderful people and would continue to do so as the years progressed, but he was glad that Rachel and Quinn were able to make a go of their friendship for their last year properly together in high school before they left to truly accomplish those great things they were destined for. Rachel's future was a given: a Broadway superstar. Quinn's was not so easily mapped out. He could see her being absolutely anything she wanted. Like Rachel – and the rest of his Glee Kids – she was going to excel and be brilliant in anything and everything she set her mind to. She was intelligent and beautiful. She could go to one of the best schools in the country and excel, he was sure of it. And he was sure that the Glee Club had helped her to become a more rounded person.

Will was brought out of his musings when he heard the scraping of the piano stool and Quinn's tired voice spoke to Rachel. "I would stay Rach, but I'm seriously exhausted." He watched as Quinn picked up her book bag from the top of the piano and pulled the strap over her shoulder. "Maybe Saturday I'll come over to yours and we can practice then?" Rachel was still seated at the piano when she nodded her head and smiled up at her blonde friend. "All right Quinn, I guess it has been a long day what with that algebra test in math as well as rehearsal." She shrugged her shoulders and began to stand up, but Quinn walked around to Rachel and put a hand on her shoulder. "You're right it was really tough. How do you think you did?" She asked, biting her bottom lip and squeezing Rachel's shoulder. The brunette shrugged and then smiled up at Quinn. "I'm not too worried; maybe if you decide to come over we can work on some pre-practice?" The blonde nodded her head and smiled a little more. "Sounds good Rach, I'll see you tomorrow okay?"

"See you tomorrow Quinn." The two girls embraced, with Quinn bending over slightly to wrap her arms around her petite friend, and then Quinn smiled at Mr Schuster. "I'll see you tomorrow Mr Schuster." She said, waving at him as she made her way out of the room. "Bye Quinn, great job!" He called out to her, making sure he told everyone of his students just how well they had done in the long afternoon's rehearsal.

Now there was only the two of them left. Sighing a little because of the exhausting task of teaching during the day and rehearsals in the afternoon, Will began to heave the scattered chairs and stack them into a pile. He looked up as he wiped away some water from the top of the seat of red, plastic chair at the sound of the piano key being lightly pressed. A scoffed smile appeared on his face and he shook his head at her. "Are you not dying to go home and rest Rachel?" With a little chuckle he asked, seeing that she was stretching her fingers with a little frown on her face and she began to tinkle the keys again, playing a soft melody. The brunette looked up at her teacher and smiled softly at him. "As much as I would like to go home and start on the week's already long list of homework, I really wasn't impressed with my performance this afternoon." Will smiled at her as she frowned her delicate features once again. She began to play more of the soft tune but then began to play the introduction to the sound they had just been dancing and singing too. Her nose made a funny wrinkled shape and he shook his head at her. "Rachel your performance was flawless. You're amazing, you don't need to practise here anymore than the others." He shuffled over to her and stuck his hands in his pockets as he spoke to her. Shrugging her light shoulders, Rachel shook her head. "That's very kind of you Mr Schuster, but it's like my old drama teacher said to me; you never stop practicing until the curtain goes up." She then got to the bit of the song she wanted to work on and began to sing.

Her usually strong and confident voice was straining and tired. She still sounded as amazing as always, but her fatigue was showing through and Will could tell she was only going to get herself worked up. Taking his hands out of his pockets he then quickly walked to the CD player they had been using to rehearse with. At the sound of the pre-recorded song being played through the speakers of the room, Rachel halted her fingers' movements and looked up. Wil had spun around and had his eyebrows raised at her. "Come on Rach; give those piano playing fingers and break and practice properly." He smirked at her and helped her out of the stool by presenting his hand to her. "Will you sing Finn's part Mr Schue?" She asked, standing next to him and counting the beats by clicking her fingers by her side. He beamed at her and nodded his head, however he didn't reply because his/Finn's part came up. Taking a deep a breath, he puffed his chest out and then beamed up at the ceiling, pretending to be staring into the dazzling lights of the big Broadway stage his kids will be performing on at the end of the school year. He knew that they would make it to nationals. It was being held in the amazing city of New York and that was where his kids needed to be. For Rachel, being in New York was more than a dream: it was going to be her reality. The air of Broadway was what she wanted and needed to breathe and she was going to stop at nothing.

As the song ended, the two of them breathed out a laugh and casually high fived each other. Will paused the CD to stop it from going to the next one and grinned at Rachel. "That was amazing Rachel," the brunette smiled up at him and wiped her forehead of sweat, "I told you that you didn't need to practice anymore!" Rachel then laughed at him and shook her head. "One more time Mr Schue, this time with dancing!" With a leap that could match that of a gazelle and the excitement of a child at a birthday party, Rachel went to the CD player and promptly pressed the 'play' button. Shaking his head and laughing at the girl's joy for overworking herself, Will laughed at her; "We really should be going." As she turned around, Rachel portrayed the very definition of a staged 'shocked' facial expression, accompanied by an equally dramatic gasp. She then practically ran – again, like a child at a party – to her teacher and begged; "Come on, one more time." Her dark eyebrows were raised as high as they would go and her eyes were as wide as ever. She then added to her begging by going for the typical gesture of pleading: holding her hands clasped together as if in a prayer. She looked up at her teacher with theatrical tears and whined; "Please?" It was a good thing for Will that he was so used to her antics.

Any other teacher would have probably yelled at her for behaving so immaturely and disrespectfully. He assumed her fathers had the same acts of persuasion delivered to them and could only imagine the things their daughter had convinced them to do with that adorable baby pout and Bambi eyes. He hoped one day he would be able to build up a resistance to her showcase acting (and made a silent mock mental note to ask her fathers for one) but still, he nodded his head. "Okay.," he then put his hand on her shoulder and lightly shoved her slightly. She barely moved and instead laughed at him due to her triumph in succeeding what she wanted.

Getting into place for the dance routine that went with the song, Will still performing in place for Finn, Rachel continued her laughs of succeeded victory. Will rolled his eyes at her playfully and shook his arms in front of his so he could roll his sleeves into a more comfortable position at his elbows. "Fine," He heaved dramatically, wanting to get his own flair of dramatics into their conversation. "It's not like those papers will be gone when I get home anyway." Once again Rachel looked to him with an expression of shock, only this time there was an added element of offence and then, once she caught his eye again, did she hold her head slightly higher. With a tiny puff of indifference, Rachel pushed back her shoulders and spoke above the introduction of the music, in her clipped voice of arrogance, "Thank you Mr Schue. Just think, you're helping me become a star." Still keeping her head to the front so she could look at her 'audience', Rachel counted herself in, this time without the aid of her fingers clicking to the beat: this time, she was pretending the performance was real. At her antics (and wanting to get one final word in) Will stuck his tongue out at her and said, "I'll keep that in mind!"

His timing was perfect, because the small, ambitious girl didn't have enough time to reply with her own comment. Rachel simply belted her first note out with more power than it needed, which threw Will off a little.

Throughout the song they competed against each other and made their dance less of a show of fun and happiness, and more of a tango of dominance. They playfully scowled and shot their notes at each other in sharp tones and glared at one another through exaggerated show faces. But they both thought it was one of the best performances they had done and wished they could show it to the rest of the club in their next rehearsal. However, to do that, they would have to practice again because they knew for certain that if they tried to be spontaneous with their mock hatred and jealousy, then they would ruin it by laughing. And laughing – unless scripted – was absolutely forbidden in a professional performance. Even in Glee Club rehearsals.

Just as they were about to go through a real, real practice, something happen which made them stop and frown. What was about to happen to this fun, yet utterly professional teacher and his mature, yet still very innocent student would change and alter their lives for a good portion of their futures. If not for a long while, then definitely for the rest of their lives.


	2. Chapter Two: Break In

**Chapter Two:**

**Break In**

There are moments in life where people wish they had done something differently. In the hours following this one particular event that was about to happen to them, both Rachel and Will wished more than anything that they had the gift of hindsight and that they had used it. If only for this one night could they have possessed such a talent of seeing into the future to determine their choices, they would have used it and made their choices of what was going to happen and make the outcomes of their lives very different. As it was, neither of them had such a power and they had gone ahead with what they wanted to do without much care or concern of any negative outcomes. After all, certain things only really happen in films, movies, plays and books. They don't really happen in real life. But of course, if they didn't happen in real life, then why would they happen in fiction? When the ideas of fantasy are endless, the possibilities in reality are not so stretched and wide. Where for most people the sky isn't a limit and in actual fact it might be a little smaller, for some it is the limit and they can play with that. That's why there are authors and film makers. It is up to them to think of ideas and make them visible for everyone else to see them and share them. But are there some ideas that are just too dreadful for fiction? One hundred years ago? Maybe. Now? Absolutely not. The sky is most definitely not the limit for today's creative minds. But not even the most creative of minds could have constructed such a series of events.

In their classroom at half passed six in the evening on a Monday in the middle of October, Glee Club Director and Spanish teacher William Schuster and senior student and future Broadway legend Rachel Berry were surrounded by darkness. They were rehearsing and preparing, getting better and better for their competition, when the music from their CD player stopped with a whizzing scratch sound and the lights all turned out with a dull pop. It was semi-clear of what had happened: either a power cut or someone had just turned all the lights off. Mr Schuster – being a practical person – thought that it was most likely the first choice. Just his luck, a power cut had happened just as he was helping a really talented and promising student. Still he wasn't worried. The school hadn't had a power cut before, however he was sure he would be able to fix it. The problem was, Rachel was not at all happy about it.

His ambitious student was not just passionate about learning and becoming a star of the stage, she was also passionate about things 'just going right'. The power cut instantly annoyed her, and she stomped her foot and huffed loudly, crossing her sweater covered arms across her body. "Well this is certainly irritating," she announced, stumbling over to the CD player to press the 'stop' button so the wires of the player and the actual CD wouldn't get ruined due to its abrupt stopping. Will sighed and nodded his head, walking over to the light switch and flicking it on to just to see if it was a case of a whole school blackout or just a circuit fuse. He didn't really know much about electricity, but he knew that a circuit was easy to fix than having to rewire the entire school. Then, just as he was about to tell a rambling Rachel that everything would be okay and they would just had to stop rehearsing and go home, a worrying thought came into his head: how would they get out?

As part of an at the time new security programme a few years back, the school had been fitted with electronic front and back doors. If they made it to one of these doors, they wouldn't be able to get out. If all of the electrics in the school had gone out, then they wouldn't be able to leave without somehow breaking or overriding the system. And he certainly knew nothing about that and was adamant that Rachel didn't either! They would be stuck to try and find a fire exist, which would be possible but difficult due to the winding halls and corridors. Besides, what if they did use a fire exit. Could they into trouble and cause the fire brigade to come out? But Will shook this idea out of his head: he was positive the fire officers would forgive them for letting off a false alarm for the sake of their safety.

Having thought everything over, Will moved over to Rachel, who sat at the piano again and playing the same light tune she was playing before. It was different this time, purely because Rachel was annoyed and therefore she hit some of the key harder than they were supposed to be hit, therefore making the sound come out a lot harsher than necessary. Sighing he leaned his elbows on the top of the shiny black (although now almost invisible) top of the piano. "Bad news Rach," he sighed casually, knowing how annoyed she was going to be at their cut rehearsal. "The power's out so we're going to have to either be stuck in here or go and find a fire exit so we can go home." Even though he could see it, thanks to his eyes adjusting to the lack of light, Will heard Rachel's angry huff at the inconvenience the power cut was to her. "Well this is just irritating," she said again, banging on the key in annoyance. Will chuckled at her and held out his hand so she wouldn't trip over the leg of the stool or the piano. He marvelled, once she took his hand, how strange it was that the room barely changed from day to day and yet without the light they suddenly couldn't remember where anything was; including the frustrating realisation that Will couldn't remember where the nearest fire exit was! And due to the lack of lighting in the halls, it would increasingly difficult to find.

As he was leading Rachel carefully to her backpack and coat, Will asked; "Rachel do you have your phone?" She nodded her head and said that it was in her coat pocket. As it happened, Will had somehow left his phone at home. He rarely used it, but it was one of those annoying things that people living in this day and age do. This would be another event of his day that the invention/power of hindsight would have come very useful. The 'what ifs' and 'if onlys' of this situation would have been; 'if only he had taken the time to get his phone off the nightstand'. Still, as annoying as it is, these things are only thought of and realised once the event (or leading up to the event) happens. "Here we go!" Rachel announced yet again (a trait and characteristic she did a lot) and held up her phone. However, just as she was about to turn it on, a shattering clash and crash near to their classroom startled her (and Will) and she dropped her phone.

With the result of the crash of her phone, it shattered and parts of the phone were sent scattered around the room. When her startled, wildly beating heart calmed down, Rachel let out a whispered question of; "What was that crash?" Suddenly feeling like he was in one of the horror movies he loved to watch, Will replied in the same whispered volume and accidental added tone of suspicion and fright; "I don't know." Then the puzzling fear actually settled for them. They were alone. They had to be. The janitor had given Will the key for the front entrance. Will had told Finn that he was in charge of making sure the front entrance of the school was closed completely so he could get out but not let anyone else in. The weather reports had suggested any gale force winds or storms…so the noise could have come from an animal? But the crash was inside, not outside, so that only left one possibility: they were not alone.

Thinking on his feet, Will knew he had to be responsible. There was no way they would be able to find Rachel's battery for her phone in the dark and he didn't have one. The window at the top of the classroom didn't provide enough light for them to see and was too small even for Rachel to climb out of – even if she were wearing pants. "Rachel," he whispered again, not sure why but once he had started he couldn't stop. "I think someone else is in the school right now-"

"Mr Schue, please don't try to scare me!" Rachel pleaded in a very real and very scared voice. She wasn't acting but for once Will wished she was. Next to her – as they still had not moved from one another – Will nodded his head and felt for her hand. He was instructing her to stay low. Like in a hurricane or a tornado or whatever weather disaster they had to prepare for, Will wanted Rachel on the ground so that they could stay sill and small on the chance that whoever had broken in wouldn't come looking for them. It was what always happened in horror movies and books: just when the characters thought they were safe, the monster shows up and they have to start running for their lives. Really they should stay on their feet if that were the case, but Will was sure nothing bad would happen to them. No awful crime really happened in this town anyway. In fact, the school being broken into would probably be the worse public crime for a long time. There were a few personal crimes but nothing that was a real cause for concern.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, Will settled next to Rachel on his stomach. He could feel Rachel reach behind herself and tug on her skirt so it would go longer and covered herself with her coat. Her skirt must have ridden up and she wanted to follow his silent command of to stay on the floor. To make light of the fact he knew what she was doing, Will reached behind himself and helped her adjust the coat so it wasn't so tangled whilst whispering; "Don worry Rachel, one of the benefits of the darkness is that no one can see your legs!" He smiled kindly at her and she smiled back, allowing the blush of her cheeks to calm down. "Thank you Mr Schuster," she whispered back to him and then sighed, speaking with a hint of worry, "I just hope they don't come in here." Will nodded his head in agreement, but once again tried to reassure her. "Don't worry Rachel, they won't come in here. Why would they when-" But just as he was about to say that there was nothing in the room to steal, the lights turned back on and with that, so did the CD player.

To their shock, the song they were practicing to suddenly bellowed out of the speakers. Rachel's eyes widened again at the realisation that she mustn't have pressed 'stop' at all and pressed some other button. The room was flooded with light and noise and the two of them were frozen to their spot on the ground by the stacked up chairs. Rachel gripped onto the ends of her sweater and Will pressed his hands onto the floor. Their ears strained over the noise of the music as they heard the very distinctive sound of male voices: too deep and gruff to be even the senior football players! They were surprised and angry, that much could be heard. Then, they heard the sounds of their feet. They were heavy and loud and angry. Beside him, Rachel was panicking. As far as she was aware, her house had never been broken into. Their car was once, but her dad Leroy came out of the house wearing nothing but sweatpants, brandishing a baseball bat (typically) and yelled at them to go away. They'd been harassed due to the fact they were a gay couple in a slightly backward thinking town, but Rachel had never witness a break in. Will was a little more experienced with it, since his first apartment after college was broken into a few weeks after he moved in. But then he was annoyed, now he was scared. Probably because he had to not only protect himself but his student too.

Thinking as fast as he could, he ordered Rachel to stand up. He took her by her forearm and lifted her up. "What are we doing?" She asked, looking at him with yet again more expressions of real fright, and tried to decipher what he was thinking. But, like in all horror movies, there wasn't much they could do. Will looked around his almost memorised classroom and realised there was only one exit. And that exit was now filled. Together they stood side by side and were met with three smirking, smug faces.

"Well, well, well," the smallest man – but clearly the leader – of the trio said, cackling a little. He stepped forward, being flanked by his two criminal companions. Clicking his neck he raised his eyebrow and pointed his long, sharp knife at the frightened, frozen pair and smiled; "What have we here?"


	3. Chapter Three: Face to Face

**Chapter Three:**

**Face to Face**

They were deer in view of headlights. They were mice looking up at lions. They were humans staring into the faces of devils. All the clichés of the world could not compare to the fright that Will and Rachel were feeling in that moment; staring at the men who had broken into their school and were now advancing on them. Their hearts were pounding slightly, afraid of what was going to happen. To Will, it was clear something bad was going to happen but he wasn't sure quite how bad. Were they going to mug them? Were they going to hurt them? Or would they, somehow, just threaten them with words and tell them to leave? Even if they did tell them to get out, what would they do then? Would they be followed so that they wouldn't go and tell the police? Would they follow them so they knew where they lived and could come back and threaten them more? Or, would they just be left alone? And then would they tell the police? They were witnesses after all. If Principle Figgins asked them about the break in they would have to tell the truth! But what if something else happened and he just hadn't thought of it yet? Rachel was trying to control her breathing so she didn't hyperventilate. She had faced bullies and Slushies, but they were people and things she was used to. She didn't know these men, and like Will, she didn't know what would happen.

Neither of them had noticed the alarm that had been ringing – surely that meant the police were going to come? As soon as they really noticed it, it stopped and the power clonked out again. Now they couldn't escape. It was obvious they had cut more of the school's wires and the electricity was really out for the night. Even if they were told to leave, they couldn't. Or at least it would take longer than these criminals would want and that could cause problems.

Slowly the ring leader of the trio sauntered up to them, one hand in his pockets and the other still holding the knife out in front of him, and he wore a smug look on his face. Before he could speak, Will put one foot forward and held his hands up in front of him; "Sir we don't want any trouble." It felt odd to be calling this criminal 'Sir' but like in all the cop shows and movies he had seen, it was best to be reasonable with them. At Will's movement, the man held the knife a little higher and took a long stride over to them both. Will stepped back and Rachel clutched onto his arm. "Don't make another move, Curly!" He snarled – still grinning at him. He flicked his wrist and pointed the blade in Rachel's direction. She now had small tears trickling from her eyes and he smirked at the frightened look on her face. "Please," Will tried again, lowering one hand and wrapping it tightly around Rachel's shoulder so he could pull her to his body. He could feel her trembling and he gripped onto her tighter to try and stop her shakes. "We don't want any trouble. Please put the knife away and-" The man strode once more up to Will and was now chest to chest with him. Will could smell the alcohol on his breath, mixed with some sort of sweet yet sweaty smelling drug. "Stop talking Curly or I'll ram this blade through you so fast-" He too wasn't able to finish his threat as Rachel let out a squeak and plead for him not to hurt them. "Please don't hurt us!" She cried with a light scream, "We haven't done anything! Please don't hurt us!"

As she cried and held her hand to her eyes to wipe away the tears and tried to plead with him in a more coherent manner, the other two men closed and locked the door of the choir room and began to advance on them as well. Suddenly it was two against three again and Will was frantically trying to find some way of escape. In the cop shows he watched, the man was able to kick and punch and throw his way out of a situation. But this wasn't a cop show: this was real, and he had Rachel to take care of. Rachel shook her head and held onto Mr Schuster's arm as tightly as possible. She was shaking more now and her crying wasn't helping her fright. She wished she hadn't dropped her phone, wished she hadn't wanted to practice some more, wish she had just gone home when Quinn did. She wanted her dad and daddy and wanted to go home.

"What's your name sweetheart?" The man brandishing the knife asked in sickly sweet voice. He took his attention away from Will, but another man stepped up to make sure the teacher didn't try anything 'funny'. This man keeping guard of him was large and frightening. He had a fixed glare in his eyes and his hands set in fists. What struck Will as odd was that none of them had attempted to hide their faces. It was clear they were sure no one would have been in the school during their break in. Will was then glad that none of his other students were here. He turned his head and looked at Rachel. She was sniffling and trying to calm herself. She didn't want to tell the man her name. He didn't want to tell her anything other than that she wanted to go home. But he was so close to her. His knife was held pointing at her stomach and she didn't even want to breathe for fear it would puncture her, like a balloon and a pin. "Come on sweetie," the man – who Rachel could see had small scar on his lip – asked again, but this time he put his hand on her waist and tried to bring her body closer to him. "If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

"Yeah and you _show_ us yours we'll _show_ you ours," the third man chuckled. He was wearing a baseball hat, but backwards so his face was still on show. The man with the scar swung back and growled at his 'friend'. "Shut up you idiot." The baseball cap man laughed and shook his head, mumbling out an apology as he crossed his arms.

Scar turned back to Rachel and squeezed her side, making her whimper and shake her head and cry again. Having had enough of them, Will yelled, "Leave her alone!" And the attention was brought back on him. Scar clenched his jaw and nodded his head at Bulky. Suddenly Will was ripped away from Rachel and thrown across the room and onto the floor. Rachel cried out again, "No!", but Baseball held her and put his leather gloved hand across her mouth. Due to how light she was, he had no problem in holding her and keeping her still, laughing into her ear. On the floor, Will was being kicked by Bulky, right in the stomach, and was being talked down to by Scar. "You really think you're in the position to talk, huh Curly?" Shouting, he asked Will and on the floor clutching his abdomen Will reluctantly shook his head. "Didn't think so," Scar chuckled and again silently ordered Bulky to keep an eye on Will. Bulky reached down and grabbed Will by his hair and dragged him to his feet. He was then spun around and kept hold of. Coughing and spluttering, trying to catch his breath, he then saw Scar talk to Rachel.

The girl was still being held by Baseball. She was rigid and crying loudly. Baseball was trying to calm her down by shushing in her ear, but what made her cry more (and Will call out for them to leave her alone) was what Scar said. "Baby, baby, don't cry," he placated and put his hands on her hips, "You're making me hard and horny." He then thrust his hips up and Rachel screamed into the gloved hand. As Will thrashed about in his hold, he was kicked by his captor and then fell down onto the floor, crashing and smashing his knees. Scar stopped thrusting at Rachel and turned back to Will. "You're a teacher, right Curly?" Crouching down by Will, he grasped hold of his cheeks and forced him to look at him. "Answer me or I'll just go back to the girl!" He bellowed in Will's face, spitting at him. Not wanting him to hurt or threaten Rachel, Will nodded his head and hoarsely replied; "Yeah I'm a teacher. I teach Spanish and Glee Club."

The revelation of his subjects caused Scar great interest. "You sing?" He asked, and then looking back at Rachel, "You both sing? Is that what you were doing in here, singing?" Behind him Rachel nodded her head and muffled 'Yes'. Will wanted to laugh; of course at the mention of singing Rachel wouldn't mind talking. For a minute there was a pause. Scar was thinking of something to do, some way to humiliate and embarrass them. Will watched as his eyes shifted in their sockets and moved around the room. Rachel tried to relax in her own captors arms, but couldn't due to the tight grip he had on her. She had visions of her fathers running in through the locked door and demanding they let her go and then her dad and Mr Schuster would beat the three men up. Of course she knew that wasn't going to happen so she tried to think of a song she could hum in her head to calm her down. Singing always made her feel better, but when Scar grabbed her out of the grasp of Baseball, and threw her down next to Will, she knew whatever song she would have thought of would never make her feel positive again.

Pointing his knife at the two of them, Scar smirked. He saw how closely together they kneeled and found it comical how much they depended on each other. He thought it was pathetic that this man was supposed to be protecting the girl, and yet all he could do was kneel closely next to her. They weren't even tied up or gagged! They were free to fight back, and yet they were at his mercy. "I want you to sing," he ordered them and watched as the teacher and student gazed at one another, wondering what the reason was for him to make them sing. Shaking his head with frustration and then lunging forward on his knees with his knife and held it under Rachel's throat. She squeaked in fright, but tried not to scream again. "I want you to sing right now or else I'll slash the two of you!" Really he had no intention of killing them, but he wanted to get his kicks. Behind the two of them, Bulky grunted at them and then kicked their backs so they fell forward. Immediately Rachel began crying and Will mumbled and nodded his head that they would sing if he didn't hurt Rachel. The girl was shaking more, her arms barely able to hold her up, and promising she would sing if he just took the knife away from her.

Will locked his eyes on Scars; "Please don't hurt her. Please just put your blade away and we'll do it." He begged and was shocked at how weak he sounded. His strength was slowly picking up, and he felt rage flush through his body. He wanted to hurt this man crouching in front of him. He wanted to protect Rachel physically, but he knew if he did kick or punch this man, Rachel was in danger. If he put one foot wrong in this situation, something bad was going to happen. He was already bruised and bleeding from the kicks and punches, and Rachel was already terrified; he didn't want anything else to happen. Showing some 'compassion', keeping his eyes locked on Will's, Scar smirked and took the knife away. He stood back up and scoffed at them, mumbling at how pathetic they both were. They were both shaking – the teacher not as much as the girl, who was shaking like a leaf in autumn – but still shaking enough for him to know how frightened they both were.

The two of them steadied themselves on their hands then stood up, shaking. Rachel was crying hard still but tried to keep herself composed. Rachel's legs felt wobbly and unlike her own. She imagined this was how Bambi felt when he first tried to stand up when he was born, or when he was trying to skate on the ice with Thumper. In this situation, she was very much the baby Bambi and Will was her Thumper. Whilst she was heaving her breaths to try and get herself under control, wiping her eyes away of the tears, she glanced over at Will. She saw that he was just as scared as she was, but he was handling it a lot better. His hands were quivering and his throat was swallowing – a tick and habit of his, she guessed. When he caught sight of her eyes, he gave her a tight and yet comfortable smile. He was trying to reassure her, and when he held out his hand, she took it greatly. She didn't want to let go of his hand for the rest of the night. In her mind, as long as she was holding onto his hand then nothing would happen to them. Maybe if they sang him a song he would let them go. Maybe all of this would be over. She would take Will back to her house and her dad can clean him up. She watched him getting hurt. They looked like pretty hard kicks and she didn't want him to be in any pain. He was holding himself well now, but she still wanted him to be checked out in case of an abdominal bleed or broken rib. Her father may not have been a head doctor or the top doctor in the country, but he was still a doctor and Rachel would rather have him look at her teacher than anyone else.

Together they shuffled near the piano and leaned against it. Rachel was close to asking what song they wanted them to sing, but instead just decided she would allow Mr Schuster to supply a song. Similarly to the song she would hum in her head, whatever song they would sing now, if she sang it now, would surely only ever remind of this evening. However it would also remind her of this moment: the moment when she and her teacher were united against criminals. Still holding onto Will's hand, Rachel looked up at him and silently asked what song he wanted to sing. The man sighed and shook his head, shrugging his shoulders as well as mumbling that he didn't know what to sing. Rachel nodded her head and felt Will's hand squeeze her own. "How about something happy?" She asked in a small whisper, even though the men could clearly hear her. The men in question had lined themselves up nearby; each one in a different position. Scar had his arms across his chest, Baseball had his hands in his pockets – leering and smirking at them, Rachel in particular – and Bulky was slouched with a bored, uninterested look in his eyes. "Come on Sonny and Cher!" Baseball called out, "We're waiting! I want to hear a song!" He hollered and started clapping his hands above his head, starting a laughing chant.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Rachel sighed and then whispered the title of a country song she and Noah had sung a year ago. Will knew it and thought it was the perfect song. Not only did it suit their voices – even though that wasn't a huge concern right at this moment – but it rang true with their situation. They needed each other at that moment and even though it was a romantic song, and had a melancholy feel to it, "Need You Now" was the perfect song choice. Taking two deep breaths, they faced their 'audience' and began to sing. Rachel started off with a shaky voice (almost as shaky as he limbs) and kept her eyes to the floor. It was the first 'performance' she had ever been a part of where she didn't look at her audience. She always looked them or close to at them, if the lights of the stage were in her eyes. But for this performance, she would only sing to herself and Will. Her teacher was the same.

Will had a shuddering, slightly hoarse voice because of the dull pain in his stomach and the fact he wasn't really in the singing mood. When he heard Rachel sing, he was amazed that she wasn't singing through tears. Somehow she was holding them off, just so she could sing. Even though she was clearly petrified, she actually sounded close to normal and Will couldn't help but smile internally at her. If he wasn't so tired and scared, he would have shown her the grin he was wearing on the inside. As it was, both he and Rachel just wanted to get this performance done and over with so they could leave.

Throughout the song, Baseball cheered and laughed, stamping his foot and clapping his hands. He was enjoying himself as much as if he was in a strip club. Bulky remained emotionless, and his eyes as dark as his skin somehow grew darker: either he didn't like the song, or just didn't care for the situation. Scar however, looked at them with a pensive, serious expression with a small smile on his face. He watched them with genuine interest and although Will wanted to keep his eyes on Rachel whilst she sang, he couldn't help but look at this man and wonder what he was thinking. Why was he smiling? Why was he like he enjoyed it and not because he thought it was funny? Why was he not behaving like one of the other two? It worried Will and he didn't care that he messed up some of the lyrics – he doubted Rachel cared too – and he wanted Rachel to get out the situation as fast as possible. Maybe he was realising they shouldn't be here and that he was going to let them go home. He wanted to leave but he wanted Rachel to be somewhere safe. Not only because she was his student, but because she was a young girl who was clearly frightened.

The song finished and Rachel brought her eyes up to look at Mr Schuster. The man held her hand tighter and smiled at her quickly. It was tight and close but he wanted to get Rachel out of there. Just as he was tugging on her hand to pull her away from the piano, Scar spoke up. "Well, well, well that was pretty good you two." He started to walk up to them, Baseball laughing and nodding his head, hands still in his pockets. Bulky still looked bored but his interest picked up once he heard his friend speak up and walked over to the two of them.

Will held on to Rachel's hand tighter and pulled her to his side. Rachel pressed her face to his chest, like she would with her dad and daddy, and tried to get away from Scar. His look had transformed again and they both felt sick. His smile was sickly and his eyes were glistening. "Thank you," Will said, clearing his throat and trying to look strong. "Can we please go now?" Once the question left Will's lips, Baseball laughed and shook his head. Rachel then gripped onto Will's shirt and pressed her face more into it. Her heart was racing and she was suddenly even more scared than she was before. "You want to leave now?" Scar asked sarcastically, he was an arm's length away from Rachel and Will didn't like it. Yet he couldn't move. Bulky had come up next to him and was blocking his escape. "Why leave when," Scar then reached out his hand and began to stroke Rachel's hair, the movement making her freeze and Will's anger boil, "We're only just getting to know each other." Scar finished and chuckled lowly in his throat.

Suddenly, the teacher and student were separated with a loud squeak coming from Rachel. Will was being held once again by Bulky and this time in a strong grip. Rachel was carried over to the other side of the room, near Will's office, and Baseball was holding Rachel in his arms. Will was thrashing once again in Bulky's arms and now started yelling at Scar. "Let her go!" He yelled, "Let her go!" Scar and Baseball simply laughed and ignored him. They were far too busy making Rachel uncomfortable. Baseball held Rachel to his torso and had his hands on her waist. She was wriggling and kicking as much as she could, screaming for them to let go. Scar had his hands on her thighs and running his hands up and down them, dragging her skirt up and then down as he went. "Let her go you bastards, let her go!" Will had never cursed in front of his students but right now he didn't care. "Get your hands off her or I'll slice your throat with your own knife!" He had also never threatened anyone before, but right now he would make all the threats in the world. Again, Scar and Baseball ignored him and Bulky held Will tightly. His arms felt like they were snapping and breaking and he couldn't kick his legs up, but Will was trying with all his might to let himself free and then rescue Rachel.

The poor girl was screaming and sobbing, wailing and trying with all her might to get free. "Please!" She begged, over and over, "Please let me go! I want to go home! I want dads! I want my daddy!" Behind her Baseball mocked her and then began to kiss her neck and lick his tongue along her cheek and up to her ear. The action made her squirm and she cried out more. Will tried to charge forward like a bull, but was held back yet again. "Quit struggling man, it ain't no use," he was told by Bulky. His thick southern accent pounded in his ears and his words made him even more furious. "I want you to let her go this instant! Do what you want to me, but leave her the hell alone!" This time, once Will had bellowed at the two pieces of filth touching his student, Scar and Baseball stopped their actions. Baseball still held Rachel and kept her in place, one hand on her thigh and the other on her waist. Scar, however, turned around and faced Will. He smirked and Will saw a glint in his eye that made his stomach drop. "So we have your permission?" Will didn't have time to answer, because he was suddenly thrown to the floor and had pounding kicks and punching being battered to his body. Rachel cried out yet again, but was muffled by the hand on her thigh suddenly coming up and covering her mouth.

On the floor, Will this time decided to try and fight back. When he managed to kick Bulky away – by some miracle – he was up on his feet and surged for Scar. The man growled at him and pushed him on the floor so hard that he smashed it into the floor. Rachel screamed when he didn't get up or move right away. Baseball then took this action as he cue for himself to have his own fun. He spun her around pushed her up against the wall. "Hey dude," he called over to Scar, "With all this screaming this one's doing, it's got me all horny." Suddenly at the final world, Rachel and Will's eyes widened. "I think I'm gonna need to do something about it!" He flashed a smile at Rachel then attacked her neck with nips, lick and rough kisses. Rachel squirmed and tried to push him off her, but she was too weak. Scar then pulled Will up by his collar and ordered his friend to stop. "I think we should all have some fun with this, don't you teacher?" He asked Will and the respectable man shook his head. Scar ignored him and threw him back to Bulky.

Stalking over to a cowering Rachel, Scar said his chilling sentence that made Rachel freeze rigid and gave Will the strength to fight back more: "It ain't fair if only you get ago on the new toy. We'll get to take turns and we'll share."


	4. Chapter Four: Us or Him

**Hi there! Sorry for the wait. This chapter needed to be really thought out and delicately written. Also, I have my first of my two uni exams on Friday so uni has really been working me hard, hence why the lack of an update. Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reveiwing: I don't think I've ever had so many reviews in such a short space of time before! It's really heartwarming to see.  
**

**Someone (I'm sorry I can't remember who!) said that my dialoge needing working on - as in the spacing. My teacher told me this to on an assignment I did so I hope I've done it right?! If there are any kind of critcsims like this then please tell me; it can only make me a better writer! Also, guest reviewers, I would really love to reply back to some of the comments you make! I love to reply back to reviewers to answer questions or just to say thanks.  
**

**Just a trigger warning; hopefully not too graphic rape coming up. I didn't want to 'spoil' what was going to happen, but just like in the movies, I have to put a warning of what's come. Now, I say 'hopefully not graphic' I don't like/not good at writing the details of sex, so writing one like this was not really going to happen. I've tried to not be specific. I'm a virgin and quite inexperienced of sex and stuff like that, so I'm not sure how true to what I've written is correct. Still, I guess the fact I don't think ti's too graphic is okay in that sense. **

**Anyway, thank you for reading and (hopefully!) reviewing! **

**Chapter Four:**

**Us or Him**

Facial expression recognition is an important tool to have. Knowing and recognising what one facial expression means from another is a vital skill. When Will saw the growing grin on Scar's face and the hungry, predatory look in his eye, Will knew that something really bad was going to happen and he would be damned if he allowed that 'something bad' to happen to Rachel. When Scar reached out to brush his fingertips against Rachel's lips, Will surged forward with every bit of his strength and somehow managed to break free from Bulky's tight, bulging, muscular gripping arms. He roared with the volume and power of an alpha male lion and tackled Scar to the ground, like one of the footballers on the high school's team.

His dive happened so quickly that the three men and Rachel took a second to react. It was only when Scar's knees hit the hard floor with a flinching crash did the motions start up again. Bulky charged forward like the bull he was and ripped Will off of Scar, punching him and yelling at him in a gruffled voice. Scar stumbled to his knees, landing with a painful crash and he yelled with a mighty roar. He took hold of Rachel's arm, holding it tightly and screamed at Baseball to hold Will in place. With Rachel screaming and crying for them to stop hurting her teacher, Baseball did as he was instructed and slapped Will's blood covered face.

"No!"

Rachel screamed, trying to pull her arm away from Scar.

"Please stop hurting him, please let us go!"

She watched as Bulky punched him in jaw and the protective teacher had bitten down on his cheek, causing the blood to flow from his open mouth; trying to breathe without choking on the scarlet substance from his own body.

Turning back to Rachel, Scar felt he had waited long enough. With his free hand, he grasped Rachel's jaw and turned her head away from the scene she currently had her sparkling, tear pouring eyes focused on. In the reflection of her eyes, he saw that Will was sat up, watching his every move and breathing deeply; trying to come up with enough breath to speak again. Scar snapped Rachel's head to face him and she cried out another sobbing plea;

"Please," she begged, her body shuddering slightly, "Please leave us alone, please let us go home!"

She tried to shake her head free of the fast flowing tears, staring into his dark pools. He focused on her eyes, ignoring the pain in his knee caps and the light throb in his side where Will must have punched or hit him. He saw her tears, her pleading and begging. Then he listened to her words. She sounded so young and scared; frightened and childish just wanting to go home. And something stirred in him that made him not let go of her arm or her jaw. Her breaths were stuttering and her body was shuddering, and he enjoyed the feel of her quivering body under his grip.

With a light scoff and a slow, subtle shake of his head he shushed her.

"No sweetie," he cooed quietly and sarcastically. His thumb stroked her soft, damp skin and the light touch made Rachel shiver and her jaw tremble in his fist. Instead of giving in to her plea, Scar leant his face closer to her – listening to the catch in her breath as she gasped – and he whispered;

"I'm not letting you go home. I need you to do something for me."

Then, chuckling lowly, he pressed his rough, chapped lips to her soft, salty ones and pushed her further back into the wall she was pressed against. He felt her breasts press into his chest and moaned lowly into her mouth. Automatically, feeling her curvy body against his, he pressed his lower half into her stomach and he revelled in the feel of her squirm. She squealed against him and he chuckled deeply. As she tried to cry out, he pushed his tongue into her mouth and gripped her waist harder, pushing her into his lower half. Rachel's tears stung her eyes and yet she continued to cry hard and fast. Scar's cheeks were just as wet as her own and he pulled back to lick her salty tears off her red cheeks. Chuckling once again, Scar spoke;

"I know I'm going like this, if your tears taste this good!"

On the floor of the room, Will shook his head and his body shook. He couldn't believe what was happening. He couldn't believe how fast everything had escalated and he, just like Rachel, couldn't wait for it all to be over. He wanted her safe, and he couldn't believe he had let Rachel be abused like this. He wished they would just focus on him. He wished they had let her go and just beat him. He felt sick watching the criminal press himself into his student. He felt repulsed that he hadn't done enough to stop it. Witnessing the man who held them captive touch his student, Will growled and tried to speak.

"Stop it! Let go of her, just leave her alone."

But he was ignored and he watched as Baseball went over to Scar and asked if he could "have a go too". At the request, Scar laughed and pushed himself off of Rachel.

Letting out a hollowing cry, Rachel fell to the floor and sobbed into her hands, her fingertips wiping away saliva and sobbing harshly, looking up at the two men who stood over her.

"Please just leave me alone! Let me go home!"

She begged and wiped her nose with her sleeve. Her eyes flickered over to Will and she shouted,

"Please Mr Schuster, I want to go home!"

Logically she knew them being trapped in the choir room had nothing to do with him, but she just wanted to go home.

"I want my dad! I want my daddy! Please, I want to go home!"

Baseball laughed at her and crouched down to her level, patting her head like a dog.

"Don't worry, girl, you'll go home soon; back to your daddy. But only once we're done with you."

He laughed again and tried to pull her up by her elbow but somehow Rachel planted and rooted herself to the floor. She refused to be lifted up only to then fall back down once the energy had been taken from her through a sloppy kiss. Sniffling and trying to compose herself, Rachel asked;

"What are you going to do with me?"

Her voice was squeaky and her eyes were frightened, and across the room Will bit his lip with anger. Lurching forward again Will bellowed;

"Don't you dare answer that! Don't you dare talk, just let her go!"

He struggled against Bulky, who grunted at him and kicked him down again. He was bored and suddenly spoke up in a gruffled, angry voice;

"Just fuck her already and let's get out of here!"

Hearing what the men were going to do to her (or at least bluffing) and in such a vulgar and direct way, Rachel gasped and screamed "No!" and then kicked Baseball and crawled over to Will. Like a baby learning to race, she paddled as fast as she could over to her teacher: her source of protection. She dodged Scar and scrambled her way to her teacher and before Bulky could move him, she grabbed onto Will and sobbed into his battered body.

"Please Mr Schue-"

But she couldn't continue with her plea as Will pushed one of his arms out of Bulky's grasp and held Rachel to him. In his arms he cradled her to his chest and allowed her to sob into his front. Gently he rocked her back and forth and cooed and shushed her quietly, resting his chin atop her head. He didn't notice, but Bulky had let go of him and now stood behind them with Scar and Baseball. They were still locked in and away from the door, but the two of them were together again and Will wasn't going to let them separate again. Taking a shuddering breath – shaking with the anger rising in his body – Will locked eyes on Scar's smirking ones.

"Just let us go,"

He demanded lowly and rubbed his hand up and down Rachel's stills sweat drenched back.

"You've had your fun now let us go."

But Scar shook his head and laughed quickly.

"We haven't had nearly as much fun as we could have. We've got all night, now that the power isn't going to come back on until I say so."

"Why are you even here?" Will asked, frowning. He couldn't believe he had been battered and Rachel scared out of her mind, without them even knowing their purpose for being in the school in the first place.

Stepping forward slightly, Scar sniffed and scratched his head, shrugging his shoulder.

"What's the reason why people break into anywhere, teacher?"

He asked sarcastically and stood over the two of them; Will still holding Rachel close to him, shielding her away from this man. Scar scoffed again and shook his head, as if waiting for a reply.

"Money," he exclaimed, "This school's got a lot of money saved up in its accounts and we want it! We also want sex," he added, and smirked at the sobbing, cowering brunette in Will's arms.

"That was just an added bonus of tonight."

Behind him Baseball and Bulky stepped forward. Bulky clicked his neck and sighed in relief and Baseball clicked his fingers, giggling like an idiot to himself. Once again, Will could feel the hot anger rise through him and as he spoke – threatened even – gripped and held onto Rachel tighter.

"Well unlucky for you, you're not going to have sex with her. I'll kill you before I let that happen."

As if he was waiting for Will to say that, like a scripted cue, Scar raised his eyebrows;

"Oh really?"

He asked and he chuckled deeply.

Suddenly, Rachel was ripped out of Will's protective arms, screaming at what was happening, and was thrown back towards the far corner of the room. She spun on the ground like a badly choreographed move and landed crashing into the wall on her back. She cried and screamed out again, but Baseball leapt over and held her down. She kicked between his legs, but with his angle and the way he was on top of her, she couldn't reach his body. Will was being held down once again, fighting off Bulky.

"She smells so good!"

Baseball called out with an exaggerated moan. Will thrashed against Bulky and began begging for them to let Rachel go.

"Take me in her place!"

He called out, kicking his legs wildly;

"Beat me up more, leave me for dead! Just please don't rape her!"

The word was shouted with such a force that the reality of what was about to happen hit Rachel hard, and she thrashed and screamed as wildly as she could. It was no use, however, and Baseball only just laughed at her. Hearing her fate, rape, made Rachel petrified and she really had never been so scared in all her life.

As Scar made his way over to a battling Rachel, Scar turned his head and looked at Will with a raised eyebrow. The glint in his eyes was back, but the smirk on his mouth different. Like watching a fast game of tennis, he looked back and forth between the young teacher and even younger student.

"I got an idea,"

He announced and Baseball stopped his kissing assault on Rachel's young, sweet neck.

"What is it? Threesome? 'Cause I ain't down with that shit."

He shuddered with disgust and repositioned himself so he was sat next to Rachel but still had her flaying limbs trapped so she couldn't get away from her spot. Scar shook his head,

"No," and then looked back at Will. "I think teacher over here," and he pointed at him with his raised knife, "Doesn't want us to have his precious student, because he wants to have her all to himself. Have his wicked way with her and not share." Will's eyes widened at the suggestion and he immediately began to protest but was told to be quiet by Bulky. "That's what it is! You some sort of pervert, Mr Schuester?" Scar asked in a laughing, mocking tone. Will shook his head and spat in Scar's face, "Absolutely not!" He then kicked his leg out at Scar but this only lead him to be slapped and had the blade shoved under his neck.

Face to face with Scar up close, Will kept his breathing as steady as he could. They glared into each other's eyes for a little while, trying to get each other to crack. Will couldn't work out how long they had been in this situation for. It couldn't have been longer than an hour. Maybe not even that! But it felt like an absolute age. He wondered if Rachel's fathers knew where she was. He wondered if she had told them she would be going to a friend's house after the rehearsal or maybe if they were even home. He imagined they would be and maybe they were frantically calling her cell phone, calling Quinn's cell house phone or Kurt and Finn's. Maybe they were calling the police and a frantic search was being conducted. If that were the case, then surely they would be set free soon and nothing else bad was going to happen to them. At least, he didn't want anything bad to happen to Rachel. Although he was the one who had been beaten up, he didn't want anything to happen to Rachel. He didn't want her to be hit or pushed, kicked or slapped and he certainly didn't want her to be raped. He would continue to keep Scar's attention so that didn't happen. Neither was going to crack however, and this only made Scar to laugh in a low voice. "What's so funny?" Will asked in a dangerous tone, "Do you think making a young girl cry and fear for her life is funny?" Glaring into the teacher's hazel eyes, Scar gathered saliva in his throat and then spat in Will's face, making him recoil.

Once Will wasn't looking, Scar moved back to Rachel and told Baseball to get off of her. He did so and allowed Scar to pick Rachel up. She was like a rag doll now; all limp and willing to just move wherever she was placed. She was exhausted, and her fatigue had barely anything to do with her busy day of school. She flopped onto the ground next to Will again but stayed on her back, pressed up against Will as much as she could. Scar stood over Rachel and Will and pointed his knife at the young brunette. It still shined like a star, but the danger it held for them both was very real. At any moment he could use it and they could be in serious medical trouble. With one flick or stab and they could be dead. Rachel's sore, red, sticky eyes looked up Scar and watched his mouth move, taking in his horrifying ultimatum; "You got two choices, little girl." He cleared his throat and rolled his neck before continuing; "Either you let us three have our fun with you, or, you can let teacher here teach you some stuff you'll never forget."

Now hearing what her new fate was, Rachel paled once more. Her ultimatum was none she never thought would happen. If anything, she really thought they were going to let her go. Although no evidence supported that thought, she still hoped that maybe that's what was going to happen. But no. She had a choice – if it was a choice at all. Cowering and whimpering she muffled again and again;

"Please just let me go."

Will wrapped an arm around her and cradled her stiff body to him. He could only shush her, knowing that his pleads with the men were going to fail. He was frozen just as much as she was. Scar tutted and shook his head.

"No, no, sweetheart," he mock cooed, "You can't go. Sure you've sung for us but we want more."

He crouched down by her and Will lightly snarled at him. Scar pointed his knife to Rachel just to get a rise at him. The man jutted slightly but just gripped onto Rachel tightly.

"You have a choice, you can either let me and my buddies take a turn on you or," he then pointed the knife to Will, "Let your precious teacher have you." The end of his sentence was barely heard due to Rachel's wailing. She shook her head and begged to be let go. Will looked up at Scar and pleaded once more, just to see if anything would happen, "Please just let her go." But it was no use. Bulky came up to Will and kneed him in the back. This made him fall onto Rachel slightly, and she screeched out.

The noise of her pain aggravated Bulky and Baseball. The latter swore and spat on the ground. "For God sake man, just let me take her! Enough of this game! The others will be done soon and I want some of her now!" He slapped Scar on the shoulder with frustration, like a toddler not getting their way, and then stepped to Rachel. "Come on girl make your choice!" He shouted and was about to take hold of her shoulder when a tiny sound came from the young girl in question.

"I pick Mr Schuster."

The elected choice made all four men snap their attention to Rachel, who was raising her head to look at Will. The teacher's eyes welled up with tears and his hands began to shake. Professionally he couldn't do that. He couldn't allow himself to do that with Rachel. It was wrong. It was wrong on so many levels. He was her teacher. He was an adult. He was almost half her age! He shook he head as he looked at her, holding her in front of him slightly. Baseball grunted but walked away with the instruction Bulky.

"Rachel I can't!" He whispered, "I can't let you allow me to rape you." Saying it – what she was asking him to do – out loud made him sick and burst into tears himself.

"I want you to!" Rachel begged him. She managed to compose herself and held his face in her hands. "I need it to be you, Mr Schuester. I can't let them, it has to be you!" She cried, sniffing her tears up. "I won't rape you Rachel! I won't!" Will shouted, trying to cradle her to himself again. But Rachel refused to allow herself to be held by him. "Please," she begged, "I want you to. If this is the only way out-"

"It is!" Scar interjected. He had walked away from them only slightly and now he, Baseball and Bulky were sat on the plastic chairs, waiting for their 'show' to begin.

Rachel and Will ignored his call out and the girl continued to talk to her teacher. "If this is our only way out…If I have to have sex for us to let out of here and the choice is you or them, then I'd pick you. I _am_ picking you." But again Will shook his head. He didn't want her to be raped at all. He wanted her safe. He wanted her out of here safe and unharmed. Sniffling his own tears, Will cried out quietly, "Rachel this won't be sex. If this happens then this won't be sex. This will be rape, Rachel. I won't rape you, I won't have sex with you…I won't rape you!" He cried freely and Rachel held his head to her bosom – provoking a catcall laugh from Baseball. "It's not rape, Mr Schuster." She whispered against his head of curls. She didn't know when it happened, but suddenly she felt brave. She was still petrified but now that she knew she wouldn't be touched by the other three men and only by her teacher – the teacher she trusted and admired the most – then she didn't mind. It was a bizarre thing, but given the choice, she didn't mind. "It's not rape," she repeated to her teacher, "I'm giving you permission. I…I'm c-consenting it." Shaking his head free from her grasp, Will shook his again and spoke more forcefully. "You're consenting to rape, Rachel! You're being forced into this therefore it's not sex, it's rape!"

"Clock's ticking you two and I'm getting impatient!" Scar called out from his seat. He was running the blade of his knife over his fingernails like a nail file and glaring at the two of them on the floor.

Will now took Rachel's arm in his large hands and made sure she looked into his eyes. "I don't want you to be hurt," his voice cracked and he composed himself as best as he could before continuing. "If I do this to you then you will be hurt, no doubt about it Rachel." He shook his head, trying to convey to her that maybe there was another way out. There wasn't and he knew this, but he was trying to stall for time. But Rachel shook her own head. "If I allow this happen with those three then it will hurt even more. Besides," she quickly glanced at the three sitting men and then back at Will with a shuddering breath. "I'd rather have my virginity taken by you then them. At least you'll be gentle." She lowered her head. She wasn't ashamed. Keeping her virginity for as long as she had was some sort of prize at the school she was in. She was sure that everyone in Glee Club – bar Kurt probably – were no longer virgins. It had always been her plan to wait for marriage, but now faced with this, that plan would have to change. Besides, just as she had said, she would rather her trusted teacher (who she almost considered a friend) took her precious virginity than three men who were probably riddled with all sorts of STDs. At least her teacher would be gentle and considerate. Will allowed her words to sink into his brain and he allowed more tears to flow from his eyes and down his cheeks. Rachel was a virgin. He was sure she was, but now it had been confirmed. He was going to be the man to take her virginity and he was now just as petrified as she was. At least with him doing it, he would be able to make her as comfortable as possible. Those men wouldn't care about the pain she was no doubt going to feel. She was going to feel pain, but at least he could make deduce it so.

Slowly he looked back into her eyes and after a small beat and a pause of watching a few tears roll over her lids, he nodded his head. Like a lover, he bent forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. At the sweet, brave and comforting touch, Rachel closed her eyes and squeezed out her tears. She knew there would be more, but for now she wanted to get rid of these ones to make way for the new. As he rested his lips against her warm, soft skin, he whisper mumbled; "I'll be as gentle as I can." She nodded her head and let out a shuddering breath, whispering back; "Thank you." They stayed together for a moment, taking everything that they were about to do in. Could they really go through it? For Rachel this would be her first time. No matter how they looked at it, this would be her first time having sex and Will would bet one million dollars that this was not how she imagined it happening. Sex is a big deal and the fact he was going to be the one to introduce it to her terrified him. Also, he just couldn't stomach the nagging thought that this wouldn't be a sexual encounter. To him, this was rape and he felt like his stomach acid was eating him up, making him feel physically and emotionally worse about the whole thing. Could the two of them really deal with this? Sure, he could see where she was coming from. He could appreciate the fact she would rather have him do this to her than those _men_. Out of the options he was definitely the desired option. The obvious choice. Not that this was a choice. This wasn't a choice; no one would choose this. As Rachel took deep breaths to compose herself, she thought about what was going to happen. In her plan of life, she had always thought she would wait until after marriage, until after she had met the man of her dreams, her soul mate, before she would commit to that final act of love. Never could she imagine that this was how she was going to lose her virginity: in her choir room, with her teacher while three robbers watched.

"Come on hurry up!" Baseball called out in a half bored and half angry tone. He was getting impatient. His leg was bouncing up and down and his hand was flexing roughly. Beside him, Bulky looked bored and uninterested, but he still held a glint of intrigue. As for Scar, he held a triumphant smirk on his face as if he had planned this all along. The beating was for show and the scaring was to work them up. Now this was the crescendo of his masterpiece. Why? Because he could. It was his fun. What he had said before about this being a bonus was completely true. Their plan was to break in and rob the school; quick and easy. Having the teacher and student here didn't ruin his plan; it only made it more of a challenge. Where he thought the guy would have at least tried to get the girl out, he couldn't believe how easy this had all been. And now, he was going to make them have sex? How weird was that? His manipulation skills must have gotten better over the years. Or maybe these singing and dancing people were just weak.

Jerking his head and snapping himself out of his thoughts, Scar clapped his head and called over to the still embracing pair. "Alright get over here," he instructed, pointing to the spot in front of him with his knife. "Get over here so we can look at you, we don't want to miss any of it." He grinned devilishly at his two friends, who nodded their heads. Where Baseball laughed a lunatic giggle, Bulky simply grunted. Reluctantly, Will and Rachel shuffled over to where Scar was pointing. Their hands were sweaty and their stomachs were flipping. Will was convinced he was going to be sick and Rachel was just waiting for her tears to break through her and battle down her cheeks. At some point, Will had taken hold of Rachel's small hand. He held it tight and gave a weak squeeze. His intention had been to calm her down, but he needed to calm himself down too: he wasn't sure which hand shaking belong to whom, and which body was trembling more.

"Lie on your back girl," Scar instructed, still pointing down to the floor with his knife, "Bend your knees too so we don't waste any more time." It was clear he was going to be 'the director' and the other two were the observers. Kneeling on the floor in front of him, Rachel dragged her eyes up to meet those of the man who was instructing how she would lose her virginity. She looked into his eyes and his face. There, she found nothing but a smug expression and no hints of being sorry. It was clear he was going to enjoy this and that thought – that he was going have fun watching the two of them suffer – hurt her more than anything. Not acknowledging him anymore, she simply moved her hair and lay herself down and focused her gaze on the ceiling above her. If anything, she could count the tiles.

Wasn't that was some girls did anyway? Lie there and think of something else? Briefly she thought if that was maybe what Quinn did. It was such a strange thing to think of now: her best friend's own first time having sex. She was drunk on wine coolers, so maybe she did just lay there and let Puck 'do his thing'. But, maybe she wouldn't be able to just lie there? Maybe she would have to do something too? She let out a shuddering breath. She knew that the tenser she was, the more it was going to hurt. But maybe it wouldn't hurt that much? Maybe because Mr Schuster was doing it, it wouldn't hurt. He had experience, so maybe he knew how to not make it hurt? Just thinking about it, all of it was making her head hurt. The fact that Mr Schuster was…Maybe she should just hum or sing a song in her head? No, because then she would have the same problem as before; whatever tune she would think of would always be linked back to this moment, or these moments. As she lay there on the cold, shoe scathed floor, all she could focus on were her tears forming in her eyes as she imagined what it was going to be like and awaited further 'instruction'.

Sniffling quietly to himself, Will sat on his knees and watched as Rachel lay down. He was as she slowly brought her quivering legs up and as she pressed her knees tightly together. His eyes focused on those knees. Those smooth tanned knees with light red patches on them where bruises were going to form. He could feel himself trembling even before he was told to unzip his pants. Scar tapped his knife against his knee and told Will to do it quickly. The sick man was enjoying the build-up, but he wanted the 'show' to start. With fumbling fingers and eyes still pinned to Rachel's innocent knees, Will took hold of the metal zip on his crotch and gripped it firmly. Slowly, almost as slowly as it took Rachel to bring her legs up, he pulled down his zipper. The noise echoed around the room and he could have sworn he heard Rachel squeak. This was it, he thought, this was happening. He was really going to do this. He was going to rape his student. If anything, he was more than just a rapist. He himself was being raped, in a way. He didn't want to do this. No way would he ever want to do this. He got slightly annoyed when he saw boyfriends shove their girlfriends, albeit playfully. A woman should never be hurt, neither should a man of course, but this was completely wrong. Not only was he a man but he was her teacher. A teacher shouldn't do this to his student. Rachel was so innocent. She may be nearing eighteen years old and almost an adult, but she had that flair about her that was so pure. As far as he knew, she didn't curse or swear, blushed at the idea of doing more than kissing…and now to know that she was a virgin too…Will just couldn't fathom what he was about to do.

"Good, now spread her legs," Scar told Will once his zipper was all the way down.

"Like your spreading butter on a muffin!" Baseball called out with that manic giggle again. Bulky even laughed at that. He was getting excited too, and it was even more clear now that all three of them were going to enjoy the torture both Will and Rachel were going to endure.

Those knees. It was those innocent knees. They were almost childlike, hairless and smooth, and Will had to fight back a choking retch. A child. Not long ago Rachel was a child. Her fathers had probably put Band-aids, wiped away cuts with warm cotton balls and pressed magical healing kisses to these knees. Now he was going to place his rough, guitar playing, slightly chapped hands on them and open them to reveal something he never, ever wanted to see. Why would he? He wasn't attracted to Rachel, or any of his students and never would be! Even when they became adults, he was sure that he would never, ever find them sexually attractive in any way. Admirable perhaps, but certainly not attractive like this. That produced another thought in his head; how on Earth will he be able to look at Rachel again after this? How on Earth will she be able to trust him after this? She may say this wasn't rape, but in his mind it was! How were they supposed to go back to being teacher and student after this? How were they supposed to go back to normal?

"Haven't got all night, Curly!" Baseball yelled, stamping his big, clomping feet and making kneeling Will and laying Rachel jump. It was true, they probably hadn't got all night, but the darkness was certainly taking its time. The other robbers' job would soon be done and then they would be free to go. Perhaps? Will certainly hoped they would be allowed to leave, he just wished they could go instead of being subjected to this. Reaching his trembling hands out, Will placed them on Rachel's knees and gave them a light squeeze. His eyes then flickered to Rachel's face and the sight made his lips and chin quiver and tremble. She was trying to hold back her tears and sniffling. Her eyes were focused on the ceiling and they were shifting around, trying to block out what was happening. In that moment, once again, he vowed that he would be as gentle and as soft and as comforting as he possibly could be. He knew it was going to hurt – if anything, their personal biology were going to make it painful – but he would try to reduce that by going slow and being patient. Even if that aggravated their captors.

Slowly, as if parting a flower's petals away from the bud, Will separated Rachel's knees and spread her legs wide enough so he could fit himself between her. His eyes were closed tightly so he didn't have to see Rachel or her body. He didn't want to look. He wanted this be a bad dream. A bad, bad dream. But it wasn't a dream. This was made known to him when he heard Scar shout, "Hey open your eyes Curly! How are you gonna know where her pussy is if you've got your eyes closed?" Will gulped and Rachel sniffled. The vulgarity made Will want to hit him, but he knew if he got from his position and tried to, Rachel would suffer and he wouldn't let that happen. Once Rachel's legs were spread enough, Will opened his eyes with a shuddering breath. Still he didn't look to where he was 'supposed' to. He felt sick and could feel himself crumbling. To the side of him he heard Baseball call out his instruction; "Hey girl you gotta take off your panties! None of that push 'em to the side crap, I want to see it all." This time Rachel gulped and she pushed her fists down to where the waistband of her underwear was and reluctantly pushed them down. She took deep breaths; in and out, in and out, just to get through it. Her breaths were disturbed, however, because Baseball whooped "They're white! Oh shit, man, she's got virgin panties on!" It was true (at least in high school) that if a girl wore white or pale pink underwear that she was a virgin and although Will still didn't look at them, knowing even more so of her virginity made him shake.

"All right, now everyone's set," Scar said, clearing his throat as if he was a director of a film, "Get into place." Will was now being told to hover over Rachel and position himself at her entrance. He didn't want. That was as clear as washed glass, but again, the new mantra of "Rather him than them" was chanted to him, and he pushed himself (rather shakily) so he was over her. Still he didn't look and Rachel didn't want him to. If he had to do this, he would rather not want to see _all_ of her. Beneath him, Rachel felt so exposed and embarrassed. She could hear Baseball laughing again and enjoying himself. She knew that because of their side on angle that they wouldn't be able to see _her_, but they could imagine and the imagination was always better than the reality. At least, that's what she always thought.

Hovering over her, Will was a fair difference from Rachel's face but he could still feel her breath on him. Still he wouldn't look at her, but he didn't need to. He could tell how terrified she was just by feeling her breath on him. They were deep and fast. She was trying to calm herself, trying to block and ignore everything that was happening. Even though they hadn't _started_ yet, they would soon; she could feel everything and wanted to cry again.

"I promise I'll be gentle." Will told her, bringing her back to him and their situation. She brought her glazed gaze away from the ceiling and focused on him. Will had opened his eyes too and now they were as pink as Rachel's backpack. Both of their eyes were. Where Will had previously been looking at a face of pure indifference, a face that was clearly scared but also clearly blocking out what was happening, he was now looking into the eyes of a petrified girl and he felt so sorry for her. Her eyes were pink from holding back tears. Her cheeks were pale and damp from the previous tears she had shed. Her jaw was struggling against the lock it was in, and soon the barrier would be broken and the quiver would turn into a whimper or a sob. As soon as their crying eyes locked onto each other, in that split moment, they trusted each other but they also knew that their lives together would change dramatically. "Please be gentle," Rachel whispered, barely heard. Her plea was simple and Will nodded his head; simply to confirm that he would try to.

Without instruction, Will lowered his lower half and gripped hold of himself. He was flaccid, of course, and he knew that to make this experience slightly better (if it could be) he would need to get hard. The pain of trying to get himself in would be too much for Rachel, and then he would already be breaking his promise of being gentle. But then, at the same time, he didn't want to. He didn't want to be erect. He didn't want to touch himself or make himself hard at her extent. He needed to for her sake, but he didn't want to. Sensing this problem, Scar called out, sounding interested, "Kiss her first. You can't just dive in there, it would be cruel." To himself, Will scoffed. Yes, not allowing Rachel to become properly lubricated (if she even could be in this situation) was cruel and not the situation itself. Still, if he kissed Rachel and at least tried to make it feel like they were _makin__g love_ then he might get a little hard and it would therefore make the process _easier_. God, he hated himself in that moment. He felt sick. He could only just imagine how awful Rachel felt. Like he had done with his hips, Will lowered his lips to Rachel's. He could feel her trembling again, and just before their lips were about to touch, Will whispered; "I'm sorry but I have to get us ready." He didn't want to be explicit. Although she was innocent, Rachel must know about what had to happen for two people to have sex – at least to have it comfortably. Biology and chemical reactions needed to happen: namely, Rachel needed to be wet and he needed to be hard. Nodded her head with the confidence that she knew it had to be done, Rachel waited for the inevitable kiss and then for the inevitable sex.

As soon as their pink lips touch, dams broke and streams of tears poured from both of their eyes. Already it felt so wrong. If a kiss was going to feel this _bad_ then how was the actual act going to be? Pull back, Will sobbed and then pressed his lips against hers again. Their cheeks were damp with no sign of stopped and so to keep them from crying out, the two of them continued to kiss. They pecked each other like chickens to seed and then moulded their lips together. Rachel had heard girls in the locker rooms saying how whenever they had to kiss or have sex with their boyfriends, or random guys at parties, they just closed their eyes and thought of someone else. Rachel tried to, she wanted to, but it was no use: no amount of imagination was going to trick her into thinking she was kissing someone else. They both knew they were kissing someone they shouldn't and someone they never thought they would. Where their kisses weren't _bad_ they were just unwanted.

Their lips were soft and moist by the time the next order was barked. Will was reluctantly hard enough, not completely, but enough and he broke his lips away from Rachel's with a smacking pop to ask if she was ready. Once their lips were separate and they looked at each other again, Rachel sucked hers in and tried to slow her breathing. "Are you ready?" Will asked her, stuttering slightly. For a split second he felt like he was losing his virginity all over again. He remembered how nervous and scared he had been. When he lost his, he was twenty one years old and it was in his parents' bed after his birthday party. Even when he lost his, he was still older than Rachel and he shook his head trying to rid the memory of it and focus on what he had to do. Beneath him he heard Rachel sigh and then saw her nod her head. She was ready. She was ready for him to rape her. A willing rape victim, funny how that made some part of this 'okay'.

Taking in a final deep breath before 'the great plunge' as it were, Will gripped hold of himself and lined up his _part_ with Rachel's. He wouldn't look down. No way was he going to look down there. He didn't want to feel it, he didn't want to look and he didn't want to acknowledge it. His eyes were focused on Rachel's. They stared at each other, silently counting down the final moments. Without a vocal warning but with a heavy blink of his eyes, Will pushed himself into Rachel and bit down on his lip as he did so. He felt Rachel tense, saw her face clench up and heard her gasping whimper. Her jaw started to bob and quiver at salty tears she had been holding back were dripping down her face.

He was in. He had broken through and he felt disgusted.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he made his final way all the way inside. He knew just how painful it must be. No matter how much he tried – and how much Rachel herself had tried – she was just too nervous and scared, resulting in her being too tense. Her pain was sharp and ripping and nothing had even really happened yet. Once he stopped pushing through her barriers Rachel began to gasp, trying to calm herself. Her face was red from trying not to cry out but the tears trickling down her face were a blatant give away of how much it hurt. "I'm so sorry," Will whispered again, "I'll wait-" But just as he was about to say he would give her time to get used to the feeling, Baseball stoop up from his seat, clapping his hands like a sea lion and called out for Will to start moving.

"I'm done with all this romantic build up bullshit!" He shouted and then slapped his hands together in a final clap, like a ringleader at a circus calling on the clowns to begin their act. His command was agreed by Scar, who stomped his foot and shouted; "What's the hold up? You're in now, so start moving. Make it quick though, we haven't got long!" Next to him Baseball laughed and sat back down, Bulky agreeing with a snicker.

Looking back at Rachel's tear soaked face; Will sent a final apologetic sigh and began to move. He tried to thrust as best as he could to get the ordeal over as fast as possible, but also trying not to be too rough or fast for Rachel. Each time he moved, Rachel bit down harder onto her lip, so much so that she was drawing blood. She didn't care. She knew she was bleeding _down there_ so she may as well bleed _up here_ as well. Each jolted movement made her clench; trying to stop the pain she was feeling. It was no use, she knew. The only way the pain would stop would be if she relaxed, but she was positive she wouldn't relax. Even if they kissed again – like she had seen in the movies – she knew that wouldn't help her relax. All she could do was focus on Will's sorrowful face. Every few moments his own tears would trickle down his face and fall onto hers.

After a few minutes of thrusting, the pain was getting too much to hold in and after one particular movement, Rachel couldn't help but let out a whimpering cry; "Ow!" She squeezed her eyes shut and thumped her fist on the ground. Stopping his movements, Will snapped his eyes to Rachel's lip and watched as a small drop of blood dripped down her chin. Gulping, he thought of the blood he had caused to leak out of Rachel and he felt the bile rise in his throat once again. "I'm sorry Rachel," He sniffled. He wanted to pull out at that moment and beat up the three worthless beings sitting not far away from them. But he couldn't. If he suddenly pulled out of her, she would surely scream and aggravate the men. Rachel didn't hear him. She was too busy focusing on the pain and straining, holding back her crying screams.

His halt caused Baseball to stand again. "Hey I didn't tell you to stop!" He stomped his feet on the ground, clenching one fist by his side and the other rested on his crotch. Then a wicked smirk appeared on his face. "Or does this mean you came and now it's my turn?" He then stalked his way to them both but Will snapped his attention to Baseball. "No!" He yelled, startling the men but causing no reaction from Rachel, he glared at them. "You're not touching her," he panted, suddenly noticing his own bodily reactions. "I'm not _finished_," he spat and then turned his attention back to the teenager beneath him.

Bracing himself on his hands again, holding his strength, he bent himself forward slightly and pressed a sweet kiss on Rachel's hot and sweaty forehead. Nothing needed to be said. Everything he could possibly say was done so in that kiss: I'm sorry, I'll end this soon, I'm sorry.

This time, Will was determined to finish this ordeal for the both of them. If they didn't have much time – assuming because their accomplices would be done soon as well – then Will had wanted to go slowly but now he just wanted Rachel's pain to be over. If they wanted to touch Rachel, Will would fight them off; even if he was just as exhausted as she was. His movements were quicker and therefore more hurtful. But at one point, Will couldn't bring it in himself to care. He wanted this to end so he could comfort Rachel. He would make sure she was okay. Of course, with his pace and vigour, the pain was reaching a dangerous level and Rachel couldn't hold back her cries any longer. Her whimpers became sobs. Her gasps of pain were louder and now she was mumbling strained and pitiful curses. Will had never heard her swear before and he never wanted to hear her use the words again. Still, this was an exceptional circumstance and he would be swearing himself if he could.

Suddenly, he realised why he was becoming tired. The thoughts had slipped from his mind. He certainly wasn't aroused by any means, but biology was biology and his body was reacting to the situation. The ordeal would be over, but he would be feeling even more repulsed. His panting was noticed by the three men near them and they snickered, called him out on it and jeered him on. Will ignored them as best as he could, instead focusing on Rachel. It was more than obvious she couldn't handle to pain; her cries had turned into begging. She begged Will to stop.

"Please! Please Mr Schue!" She sobbed and cried, sniffling and straining herself. "Please stop! It hurts too much! Please it hurts!"

But Will couldn't stop. He wouldn't allow himself to stop. He needed to keep going for both of their sakes. It wouldn't be long before it was over.

"Almost over," He whisper grunted, "I promise Rach." He couldn't look at her any more. His eyes were squeezed shut, not with pleasure but disgust. He felt Rachel shake beneath him as she cried harder and harder. But suddenly, as if a button was pressed, he let go and he was done. It was all over with his grunt and Rachel's cry. She howled and arched and begged for reassurance that it was all over. Will still hovered over her for a moment as he caught his breath. Opening his eyes he nodded his head and pulled himself out of her.

Once they were separated, Rachel pushed her hands to her throbbing self and gripped hold of herself. Crying into the floor she then turned herself away from the men who watched her and sobbed through her pain. She was burning. She could feel the blood and fluid on her hands and she felt sick. She felt pain and she was tired. Never in her life had she ever thought her first time would hurt like that. If that was gentle then she dreaded to think of what 'rough' was. Of course, it wasn't Will's fault. She would never say it was his fault. They were both powerless to stop what happened. They couldn't protest. She would forever stick to her word: she would pick him over them always.

Having shoved himself back inside his trousers, Will knelt by Rachel's head, trying to shield her, and glared at the men. His eyes were the colour of the high school's emblem: his pupils were as black as midnight and as red as ferocious anger. "Are you satisfied now?" He growled, locking eyes with Scar. "Are you happy that you forced a young woman to lose her virginity in such a disgusting way? Are you prou8d that you made her sob and cry like there was no tomorrow?" He felt the anger rise within him but he was too angry and too tired to fight any more. He spat on the ground by Scar's feet and told them in the coldest voice he could voice; "You are not men, you are monsters. The most vile this earth has ever hosted." With his piece being said, he turned to Rachel and tried to console her. His placed his trembling hand on her shoulder and pressed his face to her cheek. "Rachel you're okay, I promise you're all right. I know it hurts but it's all over now. It's all over."

The only sound in the room came from Rachel. Her painful sobs filled the echoing choir room and Will could only hold in his own for a little while longer. With his cheek pressed against Rachel's shoulder, he promised in silent whispers that he would be there to comfort Rachel as best as he could after this. They would stick together and not let the other down.


	5. Chapter Five: We'll Stay Quiet

**Hi there! Well I said it wouldn't be until next week until the new update, but I needed a break for revision and really bashed this out today. It's not as detailed as it could have been and the conversation in it has been changed and altered many times in my head so I hope it's okay. Not as big as my other chapters, I think, but I really wanted this night to be over! **

**So, I hope you like it! **

**Chapter**** Five:**

**We'll Stay Quiet**

The ground was cool against her boiling cheek. Her eyes were stinging with tears and her lower half was throbbing, reminding her of the headache from hell. Her hands were pressed to her sore and sensitive part, but it was doing nothing to ease the pain. They had been shoved between her legs and they hadn't been moved. A subconscious image or thought process she made was that it was as if she was stopping a wound from bleeding. It was what they were taught in their health classes: apply pressure to a wound to stop bleeding. Of course, she was bleeding so in a way it made sense. She didn't know how much she was bleeding, but she wished she had managed to put her underwear back on so that they could collect the blood; somehow the image of having blood on her hands was worse than having her clean, pristine white knickers be stained with her now no longer virgin blood. There was something Shakespearean about it. The deed had been done and now she had the blood on her hands. Of course, she wasn't the only one with blood on her hands. Metaphorically the three men that forced her into this position had guilty blood on their hands and consciences and Will had blood on him. Physically he would have blood on him and she wanted to cry all over again just at the thought of her blood on him. But emotionally, he had blood on his soul. He had taken the virginity of his student. How were they ever supposed to get passed this ordeal? How were they ever to look each other in the eye again? What these men had done was worse than what Will had done. Yes, her teacher had taken her virginity but these men had stolen a part of their trust. Their friendship and professional relationship was surely going to be strained and different now. Well, if she let it anyway.

Slowly her chest rose and fell as she ignored the noise around her and focused on her breath. She'd never noticed the floor before, why would she? She never really sat on the floor, let alone lay on it in a scrunched up ball. She could see the shiny patch, glistening in the little light there was in the room. Her breath had made a small puddle of steam on the floor and for some reason she was focused on it. She tried to focus on this small patchy puddle of where she had breathed and left her mark. It was funny how she was choosing to focus on this light bit rather than the tiny, almost invisible dark spots of the floor. Somehow it was poetic that she chose to look at this rather than the bigger picture. Almost on top of her was her teacher. He was trying to console her after what they had done. It was better for her to focus on this spot of the ground, rather than what was happening. She felt fuzzy; her head was cloudy and for a moment she couldn't comprehend what had happened.

And so quickly too.

It was only moments ago that her teacher had taken himself away from her to speak to the men and then rest himself against her. He was comforting and soothing and just what she needed. She needed him close for protection but also for warmth. Although her face was boiling and between her thighs was on fire, she felt cold all over. She could feel herself shake but she wasn't sure if that was from shock, tears or just a general feeling of being cold. His had had been on her shoulder, trying to stop her tears by being somewhat fatherly. Now he was lying against her. An image of two woodland creatures appeared in her mind; curling against each other to protect against the harsh natural world that was outside. But they weren't little bunnies in a burrow and the natural world wasn't against them. They were two people. A teacher and his student, and the danger that they were trying to hide from and protect themselves against were three disgusting men who had such terrifying power that made them perform an act they would never have wanted to do with each other.

Blinking her tired eyes, Rachel thought about what had happened. She didn't want to. It was amazing that she hadn't spent the last few minutes just thinking of what had happened. Once their deed was done and she had turned over and begun to cry, all she could think of was the pain. That excruciating pain that shouldn't be there. How it had happened shouldn't have been there either. It was this thought that lead her to think of what exactly had happened. Will had said he would be gentle. He was gentle; as gentle as he could be. He was almost everything she could have wanted in her first time, as strange and twisted as that sound. He made sure she was okay. He looked at her and he kissed her. He continuously made sure she was all right even though it was painstakingly obvious she wasn't. He was even going to make them hurt him so she didn't have to go through it. He had begged for them to beat him up again just so she didn't have to be hurt. He was heroic and her eyes she would always be grateful to him. He could have fought his way through them but she would have no doubt have been raped by at least one of their captors, if not all three of them. She had been given a choice of who she wanted to lose her virginity to and it was a completely obvious one. If she ever – God forbid – had to be given the choice again, it would be the man currently cradling her to his front. Never would she want another but him. Now he was more than her teacher; he was her protector and whenever she would look back on how she lost her virginity, she would always speak of him as her hero.

Together they would have to remember that this incident was neither of their faults. This assault and attack on them was not because of them and it was not their fault. It wasn't Will's fault and it wasn't Rachel's. They were both guilty and they were both innocent. Blinking once again, Rachel sniffled and slowly removed one of her hands from between her legs. Not that she wanted to, but she didn't need to look at her digits to know what was there. She could feel the crimson substance on it coat her fingers but she didn't care. That was inevitable no matter how gentle or rough they would have been. Yes, if she was relaxed and in love with him then maybe she wouldn't be bleeding as much, but that was just something she wasn't going to dwell on. She couldn't be so selfish and focus just on herself in this moment. Mr Schuster/Will was obviously going to be running a million and one thoughts through his head and she needed to be there for him as much as he was there for her. Which is why she shakily took hold of his hand that was on her shoulder and wrapped it around her body. He was now holding her completely and for a split second, she imagined that he was not her teacher and she was not his student. For a moment or two she imagined that they were two lovers who had just experienced their first intimate time together. As weird and wrong as that could seem, that's what she did and her tears dried up and her mind was focused on what was important next: how they would move on.

With his arm wrapped around her lightly trembling body, Will pressed his lips to the back of Rachel's head. As he placed a kiss lighter than air on her, he tried to calm himself. He was trying to break through his exhaustion but also cool down his anger. Rachel was the only thing keeping grounded right now. If she hadn't have taken his hand and made him wrap himself around her, he probably would have caused them more danger by taking some form of revenge on the men. For now he didn't care about revenge. He didn't think he'd care about revenge for a long time; if not at all. All he cared about right now was Rachel. How was she feeling? She just had sex for the first time, and it wasn't even real sex. Well, it was _real_ but it wasn't the type of sex someone should have for their first time. She deserved so much more and so much better than what had happened. She deserved to be worshipped and loved, not forced and hurt. A part of him felt disgusted at those thoughts. Why should he care about how Rachel loses her virginity? It's none of his business. Sure, he knew a lot about the Glee Kids but he didn't seek out their private lives and personal information. This was different now. Everything with Rachel would be different now. Now that he was that man to take her virginity, he now cared about what happened to her from here.

Sex was important. Everything he had ever been told about it – and the same probably went for Rachel too – was true. Sex changed things. Emotionally more so than physically. The physical aspect only lasted mere minutes. Yes, Rachel would be sore for a bit but that would soon disappear. But the emotional side of things would last for a long time, especially because of how it had happened. Sex was something two people were meant to do when they were in love, and because there was no love in this act, their emotions were only going to be warped even more. Especially Rachel's. Where he had experience of sex (even though he had only ever slept with two women before) he still had more experience with it. Rachel knew nothing. Her only knowledge and information came from the movies she watched, the books she read and the talks she had with her friends (and possibly fathers). Now she had had sex, what was she going to think about things now? How would she see relationships after this now? He had it in mind that she was going to wait until she was twenty five, once she had achieved certain things in life, once she was married. Virginity was something to keep hold of because it was special, especially for girls. Now how was she going to view things? Sure, he would love to say that sex was just a small aspect of life, growing up and relationships, but it wasn't. It was a huge and important deal! And he had shattered all sorts of things for Rachel. Things that she probably hadn't even thought of.

A single tear slipped from his eye, a sign that he had been over thinking things too much and his exhaustion. Still, he couldn't dwell on it – his thoughts or how tired he was – as he was suddenly aware of what was happening around him. Scar, Bulky and Baseball, had made contact with their accomplices and they were getting ready to leave. Thank goodness, Will sighed. They could finally go home. But should they go home? Was he in a position to drive? Could he just drop Rachel off at home and tell her he'd see her in the morning? Could he even drive her home? He probably should. No. He would take her home. He had to make sure she got home safely; how could he allow her out of his sight after what had happened? What if the men followed her and decided they wanted _their go_? No. She would be safe. He would make sure she would always be safe.

Suddenly a pair of strong hands was gripping onto his shoulders and he was practically thrown into the air. The play button was pressed and everything was real again. Rachel became alive as she sat up as quickly as a cat when they've been startled, and pulled her panties back up her legs. She felt suddenly warmer and now that she was covered up she felt safer. She was finally doing something for herself to make herself protected and not relying on Will. Mr Schuester.

"Mr Schuester!" She called out. Will had been picked up and thrown against the wall by Bulky. Next to him Baseball was laughing and applying a few pathetic kicks to his shins. The exhausted teacher grunted and gasped as Bulky punched him hard in the stomach. They wanted to ware him out more than they had done. They wanted to make him collapse to the ground in a sickening pain. But Will refused. He held his ground and just took it; they would get tired themselves soon anyway. But Rachel soon couldn't focus on him much longer as the ring leader of their attackers came closer to her. He hovered over her and she held her hands out, trying to shield herself. "Please don't touch me!" She called out, surprised by how strong yet defeated she sounded. She felt like she had never been so tired and with all the screaming and crying added on top of the singing she had done, she was surprised she was able to not sound hoarse.

Over her, Scar chuckled and shook his head. "Oh sweetie," he cooed patronisingly and sickeningly, "I wish I could touch you but our buddies are finished and we have to go now but don't worry," he then brought his hand up and placed it on top of her head. His hand felt like a million weights and she shook her head trying to get rid of it. But as soon as she began to move, he clenched his fingers around her delicate strands of her hair and held them in a grip. Sharply, he jerked her head up so she looked at him. Her hands fell to her head, trying to pry his fingers off her hair. Menacingly he grinned at her and told her; "I'll be waiting for the time where I can do so much more than _touch_ you." Together they held each other's gaze, Will groaning out that he wouldn't allow him to go near Rachel. Scar ignored him however, as he pushed Rachel down on the ground again and then took hold of her arm. She kicked and begged for him to let go of her, Will crying out for him to do so as well, but he was silenced by being knocked to the ground himself.

The both of them were dragged over to a small supply closet. Scar grabbed the handle and swung the door open. Without checking if anything was actually in there, he threw Rachel in and then made sure Will followed after her. She landed with a thud and hit her head on the wall, causing the mop that was in there to knock a stack of paper towels down. Why these items were in the choir room storage closet, she didn't know but she also didn't care as Will was suddenly sliding in with her. With a grunt he held his bruising, bleeding shin. "Mr Schue!" She cried out, crawling over to him and holding his face in her hands, making sure he was okay. Before Will could say anything however, door light in the closet suddenly faded as the voice of Scar boomed in through their ears. "Sleep tight you two." He called to them. They both looked up at him as he dangled the key teasingly in front of their faces. "You'll need to since you're not coming out until someone finds you!" And with that, the door was slammed shut, the lock turned and with the metal clinging sound of the key falling away to the floor, the three men walk away cackling with drunken mischief.

Silence. They sat in the closet in silence. Their bodies were pressed against each other but they refused to say anything. The shock of what had just happened sinking in. Just when they thought they were going to be allowed to go free, they were literally locked away. Will had found Rachel's hand and they were squeezing on to each other like their lives depended on it; because their lives did depend on it. There was no light in there and so their eyes were taking time to adjust but what they were really focusing on adjusting to was their situation. What was going to happen now?

Their backs were against the uncomfortable shelves of the closet. Will's stomach was groaning with a pain he could only describe as throbbing cramps. But he wouldn't think of that. His pain was nothing in comparison to that of Rachel's, he was sure of that. Yes, he may have been punched and kicked, hit and stomped but he wouldn't be so insulting as to say that type of schoolyard physical pain was worse than Rachel's emotional and own physical pain. Even though he could hardly see her, he turned his head to look at her. She stared straight ahead, burning a hole in through the locked door, as if she would suddenly have the ability to open it just by looking at it. Oh what power that would be. He could see the streaks of her tears on her cheek and he knew he probably had the same sort of tracks. In his hand he could feel hers; small but strong, tender but sticky. He felt sick at the reason why her little hands were bloody, but he wouldn't let himself think of that right now. He was already too disgusted with himself.

Giving her hand a light squeeze again he asked; "Are you okay Rachel?" It felt like the stupidest question to ask, but he had to. Of course she wasn't okay. An hour and a half ago, maybe two hours ago, she was a normal teenager and he was a normal guy. They were a pair consisting of a normal teacher and student, but now they were…not normal. What normal teacher did this to his student and what normal student allowed it to happen? No, she didn't allow it to happen, so really what normal teacher would make his student think this was okay? But again, he wouldn't think of that. He would ask her how she was and they would go from there. A quiet voice came from the girl next to her and he began to stroke his thumb across the back of her hand. "I'm okay," she replied, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I won't lie to you, Mr Schue, but I'm sore. I really, really hurt and it's not going away." The confession of her pain made Will sigh and hang his head in shame. "I'm sorry," he whispered, then looking up at her again. Their bright eyes connected and he swallowed his own lump. "I'm sorry I hurt you Rachel. I'm sorry I made you bleed and I'm sorry I wasn't as gentle as I said I would be," he then let out an ashamed and disgusted sob, "I'm sorry you had to go through that." Before he could continue with a string of apologises, Rachel rose to her knees and shuffled to kneel in front of him.

Innocent knees touched shamed ones and trembling hands held onto each other. Rachel glazed her eyes over the image of her teacher. She had adjusted to the dark and could see how dishevelled and tired he really was. She probably looked no better, but she bit her lip nonetheless. "It's okay Mr Shuster," she told him, raising her hand and stroking his hair. She felt how limp it felt and how damp it was from the sweat he had produced. She imagined her own hair being just as revolting, but like he probably didn't, she didn't care about her hair or her appearance. "You didn't do it on purpose. You didn't mean to hurt me…" She then shrugged slightly as she muttered her last bit; "It was partially my fault that it hurt." But Will heard her and he snapped all of his attention onto her. He would not allow her to take any sort of blame for what happened. No way would he allow that. His muscles tensed with the familiar anger of before, but he released it all out through his nose and he wriggled his shoulders slightly to ease the tension.

With a heavy sigh, and wiping his hand over and down his face Will cleared his throat and said; "Rachel we have to tell the police what happened." To which Rachel nodded her head and agreed;

"We will. We'll tell them everything; how they beat you up and how they made us have sex and they'll believe us because we can give accurate descriptions and there's obvious physical evidence." But Will frowned and shook his head. Where he would have loved to have followed that version of events it wasn't true. As a teacher and as a man he had to tell the truth. "Rachel we have to tell them that I raped you." He gulped again, his eyes shifting away from Rachel's. Of course, she began her plea of his innocence again. "You didn't rape me." She told him softly, but Will again would not allow her to think what he did wasn't wrong. She probably knew it was wrong, but she wasn't looking at the severity in the right way. "Yes I did!" He told her forcefully, "I was forced to have sex with you. You didn't want to have sex with me." He was angry that she didn't understand, but he had to make her understand. Of course, once Rachel had her mind on something, it was very difficult for her to change it, let alone get someone else to change it for her. "Yes I did." She protested, her own voice rising in frustration. "I wanted to have sex with you rather than with them."

"I told you Rachel you shouldn't have to have a 'rather than' choice." Will almost shouted in a desperate attempt to get her to believe him. "You had no choice!"

"It was my choice, Mr Schuster. I chose you-"

"You chose to be raped by me instead of being raped by them. I raped you!" He shouted, startling Rachel slightly. However she wasn't completely startled, as she shouted back; "Stop saying you raped me, you didn't rape me!"

For a moment the two of them just stared at each other. It was ridiculous. There they were, locked in a closet probably until the morning when someone came in the choir room the next day, bickering back and forth over what counted as rape. For Will it was simple: he raped Rachel because she was being forced to choose between him and three other men. For Rachel it was also simple: she wasn't raped as she allowed him to do it to her. Both felt like they should have a lawyer standing by just so they could jump in with what the legal definition of rape was and what all the exceptions and loopholes were. But there was no lawyer and there probably wasn't going to be one because they were stuck in a closet. Besides, in Will's mind, he didn't deserve a lawyer: he raped Rachel and that was one of the lowest things he could possibly have ever done. He couldn't believe Rachel was defending him. As far as he was concerned he was just as in the wrong as those men.

Calmly Rachel took a breath and collected herself. She didn't want to shout at him; there had been enough shouting and besides, this didn't need their voices to be raised. "The way I see it," she began just as calmly. She spoke slowly and delicately so he wouldn't want to raise his voice again, as she could see he didn't really want to, and so that he would understand her point of view. She spoke to him almost like she would whenever she was helping Finn or Puck with their homework assignment; slowly and clearly but not patronisingly. "I would have never have consented to them doing that to me. I would have fought them off and made sure they couldn't; kicked them and bitten them and just plain old not allowed them." She softened her tone again, looking deep into his eyes so that he truly understood where she was coming from. "With you, I wouldn't have. I didn't. I allowed you to have sex with me, so you did not rape me." Hearing Rachel explain herself and her thinking made Will feel sick. She shouldn't need to think of the difference between them. She shouldn't have to contemplate it, and yet she had. "Rachel-" He whispered, shaking his head and fighting off the trembling tears that were threatening to appear.

Leaning forward, Rachel shook her head and held his head in her hands. She pulled him close to her so that he was no longer resting against the shelves, and rested her forehead against his. "Please," she begged him in a whisper, "I am not going to the police and lying to them. I'm not going to get you into a whole universe of trouble by telling them you raped me when you did not."  
"What will we do if they ask about our injuries?" Will whispered back, sniffling as a tear drop slipped from his eye. Rachel sniffled too and closed her eyes. "We tell them that they hurt us. That was all. They hurt us and held us here against our will before locking us up in this stuffy, claustrophobic store closet. Nothing sexual happened. And if they ask, then we put on the best performance of our lives by saying no, nothing sexual occurred." Will listened to his young student talk and he suddenly felt himself admiring her. She was being brave. Her voice was as strong as it was going to be that night but he knew it would only be a matter of time before she cracked too. Still he nodded his head and placed his hands on top of hers, carefully removing them off his face. "Are you sure you don't want to tell the police what happened? The truth?" He asked carefully, checking one final time if she was positive about what they were and were not going to say. Looking deeply into his wet eyes with her pools, Rachel managed a smile and nodded her head. "I'll never call you a rapist. You're a hero, Mr Shuster." At her whispered words, Will bit down on his lips and wrapped his arms around Rachel and pulled her to him. He needed to be close to her. He needed to protect her. She was being brave and now he needed to. He wouldn't let her reverse their roles. "I'll make sure you're safe Rachel," he told her, one hand stroking her hair soothingly and the other arm holding her to him.

Carefully he made sure she was comfortable as he positioned her against him in a comfortable way. She wrapped her arms around his waist and nestled her head onto his chest. She listened to his heart beat and sighed into his shirt. The smell of perspiration mixed with his deodorant and body wash was a calming combination and she closed her eyes. Will rested his chin on top of her head and sighed heavily, trying to impossibly release all of the stress of the evening. "I mean it Rachel," he told her softly, "I'm going to make sure you're safe. You'll never know what danger is again. I promise." He then pressed a final soft kiss to her crown and stroked her hair. As strange and wrong as it felt yet again, he felt a fatherly protection over her. Where he probably should have felt a loving protection of a significant other, he didn't. In this moment, with the teenager falling asleep on him, he felt like a father. He wanted to provide the comfort and protection her own fathers would be giving her. Tightening his arms around her, he made sure she physically knew he was there as well as emotionally.

A lone tear fell from Rachel's eye as she sniffled, "I want my dads." Her bravery had broken, even slightly and Will sighed again, squeezing her. "I know you do," he whispered, "Go to sleep and when we get out tomorrow you can see them. I promise." He didn't know how long it took, but eventually Rachel fell asleep. She was curled up against and into him, holding on for dear life and using him as her blanket and her shield. Will, however, did not have the luxury of sleep as his mind continuously bereted him for being a rapist. Rachel could deny all she wanted, but he knew the truth: he was a horrible person and he needed justice to be done.


	6. Chapter Six: Rescue

**Hi everyone! **

**Sorry for the long wait for the update and with that sorry for the rubbish ending. I had more planned for it but I just really wanted to get this uploaded and then start things really moving. **

**Anyway, hope you enjoy. **

**Chapter Six:**

**Rescue**

Morning. A new day had begun. The sun had risen and dried up the rain that had fallen during the night. Its weak rays shone through the windows of the school and lit up the damage that had been caused. Principle Figgins' office was trashed and important documents concerning the school's funding details had been stolen. Thankfully for him however, none of it contained any passwords or codes that were needed to access the school's the money. That was of course stored away in a safe that conveniently wasn't in the school. Overall, it appeared, the break in was completely unnecessary and an utter failure; a waste of time on everyone's part. The school's power was still faulty and work men had appeared and started work on the electrics. They also got set to work on fixing the windows that were smashed in order for the criminals to get in.

Instead of a calming, mundane start to the school's Tuesday, the students of McKinley high school were greeted with an excited buzz of what had happened throughout the night. Two police cars were parked outside the front and the gossip was going crazy. Rumours were going around saying that the Cheerios' locker rooms had been damaged and Coach Sue Sylvester had ordered SWAT teams to come and investigate who had done it; it just seemed like a valid reason as to why the police were there: she was kind of crazy after all! Another rumour that sounded slightly more believable to some of the students was that there were drugs stashed away in the photocopier room and the police had busted the school. Some pupils, once hearing that rumour, conveniently fiend being sick and left to go home until the real reason why the cops were there was found out. Some of the rumours were just saying it was routine police visit, and some of the students didn't really care. Whatever the rumours were, nothing was really as boring but as serious as the school being broken into, robbed and unknown to everyone, two people were stuck inside.

At about nine o'clock the police had declared that there was no need to keep the pupils and staff from going into the school – much to some of the student's dismay. They just cornered off the part of the school where the damage had been and told Figgins that he couldn't go into his office until evidence had been collected. With a robbery of this scale, it wouldn't take that long. The criminals had clearly been prepared but followed all the standard procedures of breaking and entering; the wire clippers that were used to severe the electrics could have been bought from any hardware store and not many fingerprints had been left due to them obviously wearing gloves. As for hair and fabric fragments, any traces had been found quickly and taken away to be checked against their database. Footprints, however, also gave them a slight dead end as the criminals were clever in their quest to not leave any traces of themselves. They had taken their shoes off and the getaway truck had been swapped at some point on the way back from the school.

"Don't worry Principle Figgins," the stereotypically presented police chief sighed, rubbing his hand across his forehead. "No use in keeping the kids from their studies. We have most of the evidence we need. As long as they keep away from the scene of the crime then they'll be little chance of contamination." Shaking his head, the worried principle gave the signal and the students began reluctantly pouring back into the school. "Scene of the crime," he tutted, slightly angry but more irritated at the situation, "It makes me feel like my school is the number one hotspot for a murder or something. Like from one my CSI shows." The cop chuckled to himself, as if that was what all victims of crime said, and nodded his head. "Don't believe everything you see those television shows, Principle Figgins. Sure, they may work with the big boys and girls to get it all realistic, but sometimes the crimes are just too far fabricated." The two men began to walk to his police car; the cop holding onto his belt and adjusting his hat every few steps. Frowning slightly, Principle Figgins turned to the chief. "But isn't it worrying that some crimes really are committed like the ones you see on tv and in books?" Without missing a beat, the cop heaved a heavy sigh and faced the educator again. This time he had a slight glazed look in his eye. "It is a shame," he told him, opening his car door. "It's a real goddamn shame that people are getting sicker and sicker with their crimes. Good day sir."

Touching his hat in that old western movie type way, the chief slid into his car and promptly drove off, being mindful of all the students loitering around and trying to take as little time as possible to actually get into the school. Principle Figgins turned to face his school and sighed. Like always with these irritating and unfortunate things, he just had to get on with his day and look on the bright side: at least the power was coming on and the school cafeteria would hopefully be able to cook warm food by the time lunch rolled along. If not, he would just have to do some begging to the local pizza houses and ask them to provide an impromptu 'pizza day'. He sighed heavier as he made his way to the school, muttering that at least no one got hurt.

At least that was what he thought.

Waking up from an uncomfortable and plaguing night sleep, Will groaned and cracked his neck. He couldn't believe that he had been sat in one position all night. He thought he may have tried to lie down at some point or lean, but no. All night Rachel had remained on his chest; curled and cuddled up to him. Her hands were still fisted on his chest, but not as tightly as when they had fallen asleep. Blinking awake even more, he stretched but tried to keep the slumbering teenager on his chest sleeping a little more. He didn't know what time it was, but if it was still night, he wanted her to stay asleep. Even if it was day, he wanted her to sleep. He didn't want her to have to face the police or remember anything of last night. Of course, that wasn't going to happen, as he had somehow woken her up from her sleep. Like a little dormouse coming out from their dreams in winter, Rachel made a tiny squeaking noise and stretched her arms out and rubbed her eyes.

Slowly, she blinked and for a moment tried to make sense of everything. At first, as what happens a lot when someone goes to sleep, she couldn't remember where she was and then she did. Her eyes fully snapped open and she clutched onto her teacher's shirt. Gasping quietly, Rachel looked up at him and saw how tired he looked. "Were we really here all night?" She asked her voice croaky. She felt him sigh onto her face and watched him nod his head as slowly as she blinked. "Yeah we did," he whispered and held her slightly tighter, "Are you okay?" He knew it was probably a stupid question to ask, but he had to be sure she was all right. He wouldn't be surprised if she finally came to her senses and realised what they had done was even more wrong than she had originally thought. However, much to his dismay, Rachel just nodded and wiped at her eye. "Yeah I'm okay. Just a little sore." Her confession of pain made Will close his eyes and bang his head on the shelf. "I'm sorry," he told her, again in a whisper. "I don't know how long you'll be in pain for but I hope it's not long." He opened his eyes and wanted so badly to crack a smile and make a joke about how she had gotten through the pain of being accidentally punched in the nose by Finn the year before. But of course, there really was no joking. He was the cause of her pain.

It wasn't a pain she should have been in. A little bit of pain was normal, after all, when a girl loses their virginity, but still this pain was different. Way different. He wanted to ask her questions about what kind of pain was in and he could somehow offer some sort of advice. Of course what kind of advice could he possibly give her? This wasn't like she had a headache and he could offer her some aspirin. She would most likely be sore, stinging and throbbing for days. If she was still bleeding or had some sort of chaffing burn or whatever girls got after their first time, she probably wouldn't be able walk properly. That alone would create suspicion but dancing in Glee Club? That would surely just kill. And what about when she showered? He had caused her so much unnecessary pain and people would notice. Her dads would notice, her friends, Glee Club…Shaking himself out of his thoughts again, he apologised once more and Rachel gave him a small smile and shrug. "It's okay," she said in a quiet voice, "I'll be okay in a day or two I'm sure." She then let go of his shirt and moved herself over so she was sitting next to him.

Side by side they both stretched better and popped their necks and backs to get rid of the aches and pains they had gathered. Will rubbed his face and side, mumbling his own frustrations at his pain. Rachel was watching his face. It was bruised and slightly swollen with a cut on his cheek. Biting her lip she reached out and stoked his stubbly face. It surprised him but when he faced her their eyes locked. She slowly ran her fingers over his injuries and looked at him with a sadness he wished he was mirroring. They were hot, tired and sore and wished they could get out soon so they could address their needs. "I wish daylight would hurry," Rachel told him with a slight wishful tone. Will nodded his head but then frowned. He could see. How had he only just noticed he could see? Then, his eyes travelled to the door and saw that, yes, there was a light peering through. "Rachel," he spoke, trying not to get too excited, "I think daylight is here." Still trying to contain his joy at almost being let out, he turned to Rachel and smiled; "I think we'll be let out any moment now!" His heart cracked when he saw her beautiful smile appear. Suddenly she was up on her knees – ignoring the burn – and began pounding the door calling out for help. He joined her – also ignoring the pain in his joints – and the two of them banged and thumped, crying and calling out for someone, anyone, to rescue them.

Derek Wilson was a janitor at the school. Not a special janitor. He wasn't the favourite or the handyman, but a regular guy that cleaned the school and whistled whilst he did it. During the day his job was to mop floors, clean slushie residue off of lockers, repaint walls, and wash windows…anything to keep the school clean and tidy. Once his shifts were over and his day was done, he changed out of his overalls and got dressed into his khaki like trousers, button down shirt and jacket, and made caught his bus to go home and enjoy a meal cooked by his wife. He was an ordinary, almost retired, man, but for Rachel Berry and Will Shuster however, he would become their hero.

As he did every day, he wandered into the choir room with his mop cart. Despite all the commotion of the break in, he was just focused on completing the tasks he had been doing for twenty years of his life. Before the school day officially started, he checked over the rooms to make sure they were presentable for the day; especially when the slushie attacks on some of the students began being taken away from the hallways and some were splashed in the locker rooms and some classrooms where the poor victims were trying to hide. The difference today was that something about the room was different. Where there were no slushie puddles, the room was different. Usually the kids and Mr Schuster put the chairs in neat stacks and made sure the room was fairly tidy. This morning, however, chairs were knocked over and a cell phone had been dropped and parts of it flown around the floor.

Frowning, Derek scratched his head in a typical thinking motion. He stiffly wandered over and picked up the cell phone parts – groaning slightly as he bent and straightened up again. Being a somewhat 'modern man' despite his age, he put the phone back together and watched as the screen burst into light and the jingle played. Within a few seconds, a familiar face appeared on the screen, as well as the name of the student.

"Rachel Berry?" He spoke allowed, wondering why she would have left her phone in the choir room. On the few occasions he had spoken to her – freshman year was the first time he spoke to her, when she was crying about possibly being in trouble for leaving a mess when she had bee slushied – she was always very sure to know where her belongings were. She wasn't the type of girl to lose or forget things. After staring at it for a little bit, the phone suddenly buzzed and came to life. The sound of various 'Wicked' and 'Funny Girl' songs chimed through almost all at once, signalling emails and text messages and missed calls. Startled, the man jumped back and placed the phone down on a chair, one of three that had been left in a messy row.

From inside the closet, Rachel suddenly sat upright. Her ears had heard the distinctive sounds of her phone alerts. She pressed herself up against the door and listened more. The sound of 'Over the Rainbow' told her that her daddy was calling her. Someone was in the room. Someone had found her phone and her daddy was calling her. Her daddy. He must have been trying to contact her all night. How scared he and her dad must be! Suddenly, he fists began pounding on the door.

"Rachel, what are you doing?" Mr Schue asked, curious as to what was happening. Without looking at him, Rachel told him she could hear her phone, which meant someone was in the room. Then she heard the sound of the janitor, clearly speaking to her daddy. Will heard and recognised the voice and he too joined Rachel by banging on the door as hard as he could. The two of them forgot their aches, pains and sore bodies, and focused on getting let out: on being free. Squished and pressed against each other, they hammered and banged as loudly as they could, trying to get the janitor to open up the door and let them out. To finally let their nightmare be over!

Back in the classroom, the janitor was trying to calm down one of Rachel Berry's fathers. The phone screen had simply said 'Daddy' and a picture of a balding, slightly tanned man with glasses pulling a silly face; obviously one of Rachel Berry's fathers. (It was more than common knowledge to everyone that Rachel was raised by two men). "Sir I'm sorry I don't know where your daughter is!" Derek told the frantic, almost crying man on the end of the phone. "I'm just the janitor!" He stuttered, looking around the room, as if Rachel would pop out from somewhere – little did he know Rachel would pop out from somewhere very soon. "I found your daughter's phone here in the school's choir room…I haven't seen her. I swear I haven't-" Just as he was about plead his innocence on not knowing where the young girl was, Derek heard the distinctive sounds of banging. He pulled the phone away from his ear away from the other sounds of Rachel's daddy asking him again where his daughter was and that he must know where she was, and listened more. Furrowing his eyebrows, he listened out for the voices that accompanied the thumps.

First, the noise was just a muffled growl of some sort but then he heard words: actual words! "Hello?" There first word sounded, louder and more determined than before. "Hello? Is someone out there?" Derek then moved as quickly as he could to the closet door and sure enough, heard the sounds far more loudly and clearly than before. "It's Will Shuster!" The voice came again, and a loud thump felt like it punched him in the face. Derek moved backed slightly startled but pressed his ear to the door again. "Please, we've been stuck in here all night!" Another voice came, a female voice. He realised then it must have been Rachel's voice. "What the heck?" He gasped, putting his hand on the door handle. Without knowing it, he turned the phone off and then put it in his pants pocket. He jiggled the door handle trying to open it, but realised it was locked. "Hold on!" He told the teacher behind the door and looked around the room. In front of him, like a shining beacon, he saw the key on the floor not too far away from where he was stood. He couldn't believe he had missed it! As quickly as he could, he shuffled over to the key and crouched down to pick it up. Once again his bones crunched and his joints clicked, but he didn't care. Again, as quickly as his ageing body could, he shuffled over to the closet again, shoved the key in the door, twisted and unlocked it.

Like a tidal wave, the young teacher and even younger student fell out of the closet both panting with exhausted breaths. They had air in the closet, but not nearly enough to allow them a comfortable night and not enough to allow them the energy to bang on the door as much as they had. "Oh thank goodness!" Will gasped, panting on all fours like a dog. Beside him, Rachel was trying to calm her breathing down: through her nose and out her mouth. Her eyes were closed and small tears were falling from them. Will looked over at his student, whilst his colleague looked on in pure shock. "Rachel," he called in a small whisper, "Rachel are you all right?" He crawled over to Rachel and for the first time in several hours, the two of them could see the damage that been done to them. Their eyes were bloodshot and deep purple/grey bags were pillowed under them. With a shuddering sniffle, catching her trembling lip between her teeth, Rachel tentatively reached out her palm and stroked Will's face. The swelling had increased and he looked more than just exhausted. She couldn't believe that they had spent the night in a closet, but more importantly, she couldn't believe they had finally been let out.

Staring into each other's eyes, they both felt their guilt, anxieties and pain rise through them. Like a switch being flipped, the two of them wrapped their arms around each other and they embraced. Rachel sobbed with light, but powerful, squeaks and Will sniffled as softly as he could so that she couldn't tell he was crying. "Rachel it's okay," he soothed, stroking her knotted, sleepy hair. "It's okay, we're all right. We're safe now, we're out." Against the crook of is neck, Rachel nodded her head and whispered her thanks and gratitude at finally being let out: their nightmare evening had been over, but now it was really _over_, now they were let out of the closet and could finally move on.

Interrupting their moment was the sound of Rachel's cell phone. With an excited gasp, Rachel pulled herself away from her teacher and stood upon shaking, jello like legs and took the ringing phone from the janitor's outstretched hand. As soon as she saw the picture of her daddy, Hiram, on the screen, she burst into tears once again. "Daddy!" She cried out and at hearing his voice, she held her hand to her mouth and tried to stop the tears. "Daddy I'm okay, I'm okay! Really I'm okay!" She tried to calm down her daddy and let him know why she hadn't come home or contacted him. "I'm so sorry that I didn't…I can't explain right now I just…Oh daddy it was horrible!" At hearing Rachel break down again, Will stood on his painful legs and held the girl once again. Whilst Will tried to calm both Berry's down, Derek stared in awe. He was not only shocked that they – a male teacher and female student – were in a store room closet all night, but were clearly in some sort of altercation. Will could barely stand on his wobbly legs. His pants had blood on them and he was sure they were bruised black and blue. Rachel was no better; her legs were wobbling and her whole body was shaking. There was blood on her legs too, but he didn't stare for too long. Their faces were pale – apart from the blue, purple, and red marks and bruises – and grey. Whatever had happened that caused them to be in this situation must have been awful.

Feeling like he had to ask, Derek patted Will's shoulder and brought him away from the young girl, who was still crying on the phone and explaining to her parents that she was okay. He looked at the younger man, watching him as he wiped away stray tears. "Will," he gasped in absolute shock, "What happened? Why were you two in that closet and why were you in there all night? What on earth-" But Will stopped him before he could ask any more questions. There was no way he could tell him what _really_ happened, but he could him most of what happened. "We were locked in during the robbery," he told him, coughing to clear his voice as it was croaky and hoarse. The old janitor's eyes widened again and glanced at Rachel who was now listening to her fathers on the other end of the phone. "There were three guys and they beat us up and then locked us in the closet." Will explained further and he gulped to stop himself from crying and saying any more – not that he would _say_ anymore. They had made a promise that they wouldn't say the whole truth. As much as he wanted to, feeling that he had to be punished, he would stick by what Rachel had said.

Having listened to what had happened Derek gasped once again and shook his head; "My God! I'll the police back; get that cop back." Will looked over to Rachel as the man patted his shoulder again. Derek ran out of the choir room, calling and shouting out for the police. The police were needed, and Will wanted them, but Will had to speak to Rachel first. His lip trembled once again but he shook his head. He had to be brave once again. There was no way he was going to show weakness. Rachel was calming herself down and he had to do the same. By the time had had walked over to her, she had finished her phone call and faced her teacher. "My dads are going to come and pick me up," she gulped down her breath so she could try and calm herself again. "They were super worried about me. They'd called everyone they could think of to see where I was. They called Finn and Kurt, who went over to Mercedes' and then Tina's to see if I was with them. They went to Quinn's house to see if I was there and they even got her to call Brittany and Santana. They were at Breadsticks and they waited there for as long as they could to see if I would turn up. When I didn't show up anywhere they began driving around the whole of Lima and looking in bus shelters and train stations and-"

"You're safe now Rachel," Will told her, putting his hands on her shoulders. His strong fingers began to knead the tension from her shoulders, but Rachel shrugged him off. She shook her head and turned her back. "Everyone was so worried about me and none of this would have happened if I hadn't dropped my phone! I made them so worried! I always call them if I'm going to be late. I call or text them every time I go somewhere or do something." With a sobbing gasp, Rachel turned and focused her strawberry red eyes on Will's own pinking eyes. "They thought I had been abducted," she squeaked in a small whisper, "They thought I was lying in a wood somewhere, hurt and dying and in pain and they didn't know and they were so worried that they couldn't do anything. I never want to put them through that pain again." She began to sniffle and sob more and Will brought her close to his body and held her in a tight embrace. He shushed her again and let her tears soak through his shirt once more. "They were so scared," she whispered, feeling so bad for her fathers. "I'm their only daughter. They'd fought so hard to get and have me and keep me and now…now they thought I was dead all because I didn't call them." She sobbed harder into Will's shirt and gripped onto him as tightly as she could; trying to squeeze and cry out all her emotions.

Will rocked Rachel slowly side to side and breathed in her own worry and guilt. It mixed in with his own, and he felt like he was going to be sick. What really hit him was that her fathers were not that far off. Where their precious daughter may not have been abducted and lying out in the middle of nowhere, she _was_ hurt and she _was_ in pain. He had been the cause of that pain. The men started it but he should have fought harder. He should have tried to get her out of the building. He should have tried to knock them out or beg them to just let her go. He should have begged them more or paid them off. He would have paid any price just so she could be okay. Any price for her safety would be better than the pain and guilt they were both in. Hiram and Leroy must have thought the worst. They must have thought some serial killer had taken their daughter and was raping her and murdering her, dumping her body somewhere never to be seen again; at least, not in one piece. He may not have murdered her and left her somewhere, but he had raped her and how on earth was he supposed to look the two men in the eye again? Yes, he wasn't a serial killer or rapist from a horror movie, but sometimes real life is more terrifying. He had raped their daughter and they would be there soon to finally see her. How would not crack under their gaze? How could he go through with their plan?

Before long, Figgins and the police had arrived in the choir room along with Derek and Rachel's parents. As soon as they walked into the room, they all the men gasped and Rachel sprang out of Will's arms and flung herself at her fathers. They held her and Leroy scooped her up so he could hold every piece of her. She was sore and in a throbbing pain all over her body, but in that moment, being held in by her fathers, she couldn't care less. What happened afterwards felt like a blur. Principle Figgins tried to figure out why and how they had been locked in the closet all night and then asked if they were all right – and if they could somehow keep the fact they had been in there all night and no one had thought to come to school under wraps. Rachel was quiet and just held onto her dads. Will and Rachel were then escorted to the police station for questioning and treatment for their wounds.

Walking through the halls of the school, Will caught a glimpse of what he was sure to come should they ever tell the truth about what happened. All the eyes of the students and fellow teachers were on him. They stared at his busted lip and swollen face. The looks of horror and shock were repeated over and over and he couldn't take it. Even though everyone around him thought he had done nothing wrong, he knew he had and the shame he felt was visible all over his beaten up face. Rachel was being flanked by both her fathers with her head down, shielding the tears falling down her face, watching her feet as she limped, and was being shuffled along behind a female police officer. Will himself was being held up by a male police officer and walked behind the main officer in charged who had been there earlier on. It was clear to everyone that neither of them were in any trouble and that both Will and Rachel were innocent, that the police were on their side, but Will just couldn't shake the feelings that everyone knew what he had done. The police were aware of his crime, Rachel's parents were aware and everyone in the entire town would know what he had done. For now though, everyone was under the false impression that he was innocent. Everyone thought he was a victim, the same as Rachel, but in reality he knew the truth. He and Rachel knew the truth and driving to the police station made him feel sick with knowing that truth would eventually come out.

For hours it felt like Will had been sat in the police station. It probably had been hours – maybe only two at the most. He had been seen by a doctor and told that it was probable he did have a cracked or broken rib and that he would have swelling and bruising for a number of days around his abdomen. His jaw was bruised and possibly chipped as well. He didn't care about all that though. Well he did care, he cared that nothing was severely broken and that all he really had were cuts and bruises. What he really cared about was Rachel. She had been taken to another doctor and was currently being talked to. Her fathers were with her and were making sure she was okay. Will was sure she would be physically okay considering she didn't get hurt as much as he did. The only part of her that was really sore was her…well…a part of her she was sure she wouldn't allow her fathers to see. Besides, she wouldn't tell them that that particular area was sore. They had made a deal: they wouldn't tell the police – or anyone – what really happened.

Soon they would be questioned about what happened. They would be together again and Will was certain they wouldn't be suspicious. Why would they? Their story was pretty clear and straight forward: they were practicing for their latest competition – oh God, the competition – when the lights went out and they were suddenly cornered and held captive. They were forced to sing for them and then beaten up further. They weren't allowed to leave and somehow they tried to make a run for it, they were stopped and thrown in the closet: locked inside over night with no way of escaping. That was all they needed to say. They would tell the police the description of the men that attacked them and then be on their way. Then he would have to face Rachel's parents and hope they don't see the guilt, shame and truth in his eyes. Then, all of this would be over. What felt like months of agony would finally be over. It was only a couple of hours, one night, but he felt like this whole experience had taken up years and years of time. As soon as the police told them they could go, they could go back to their lives. He would be Mr William Shuster, Spanish teacher and New Directions choir show Glee Club director of William McKinley High School and Rachel would go back to being Rachel Barbra Berry, senior of William McKinley High School, (Co) Captain of the New Directions and future Broadway extraordinaire. They would carry on with their lives as if nothing happened. The whole night would just be some experience they had, a nightmare they would try to push to the back of their minds and they would move on.

Of course, that was the dream and the goal. Perhaps Rachel was too naïve and innocent to think of such a horrible thing, but Will would probably always see himself as the man who raped a teenage girl; the teacher who raped his student and didn't turn himself into the police when he had the chance.

"Will!" He snapped himself out of his thoughts when he heard the somewhat cheery voice of Rachel. He smiled at her and held his arms open. She gladly went to him and hugged him. "Thank goodness this is all almost over," she whispered, and pulled away from him. Smiling down at him, she nodded her head and mouthed 'thank you' before looking up at her dad and daddy. "Thanks for being in here for this," she thanked them, to which they replied that there was no way they were going to sit outside whilst she told the police what happened to her last night. With a wince that had to have been noticed by her fathers, she sat down in the seat next to Will and took hold of his large hand. His eyes drifted to their limbs and he gulped. Her fathers were stood right behind her – Hiram holding onto Rachel's free hand and his husband holding her shoulder with a fatherly grip. "Thank you so much for protecting our daughter Mr Shuster," Hiram gushed, a crack in his voice expressing just how grateful he was for the man sat before him. Will shrugged and looked away, mumbling how it was his duty to protect and look after her. Hiram shook his head, "No," he argued, sniffling, "I don't know exactly what happened but Rachel told us some of the events of last night, and I know for a fact you could have left her there. You could have left her in that classroom and run for your life, but you didn't," his voice cracked again and Will looked up at the father slowly. His husband was rubbing his back and Rachel cuddled herself into him – still holding onto Will's hand somehow. "I just want to thank you. Thank you for protecting her." Hiram leaned over his daughter and took hold of Mr Shuster's hand. He thanked him once more and Will just about managed a gracious smile. A few seconds went by but the silence was broken by Rachel's dad. "How are you feeling Mr Shuster?" Leroy asked with a kind, tired tone. Will looked up at the man and gave him a shrug and a small smile, similar to what he had given to Hiram. "I'm not really sure, sir." He answered honestly.

Perhaps if it was any other situation, he might have made a joke: I feel like I've slept in a closet all night, the pounding in my rib is swell, not too bad at least my groin isn't burning and feels like it's been split open and diced with salt! But no, he wouldn't make a joke. He couldn't joke about what had happened and he never would. In some situations there were those moments where groups of friends could bring up bad or embarrassing times and play them off as a joke. This would be one memory that he would never joke about or bring up. He would never find himself laughing with Rachel and parents, bragging over a beer "Hey, remember the time I raped your daughter, made it so she could barely stand up, and lied about it just so I couldn't get into trouble?" No, he didn't think he nor Rachel would ever make a joke about this terrible, life changing event.

Because it was terrible and it was life changing. They knew it was terrible, but they didn't know just how life changing it was.

Soon two police officers walked into the room, apologising for taking so long. Will gulped as they sat down across the table from them. It was only then that Will realised he was in an interrogation room. Another flash of what was sure to come flooded his mind. _When they find out the truth_, he thought darkly, _this is where they'll question me. This is where they all see just how evil I am_. Again, he was brought out of his thoughts by the officers asking him a simple question; "Would you like a drink Will?" But Will couldn't speak; instead he just shook his head. Rachel however asked for another glass of water. He probably should have asked for a drink, a glass of water of something. He hadn't had one since arriving at the police station two hours ago. If it even was two hours ago. Time didn't exist anymore. He knew it was daytime but he didn't know what time. He knew it was a Tuesday but apart from that, he didn't know if he should have been teaching a class now or grading papers during his free period. He suddenly felt grateful that he and Rachel had only been in that closet for one night: he shuddered to think about the numerous people who were held captive for days, weeks, months and even years. He felt sick to think they were unprivileged to have the simple basic knowledge of knowing what the time was. A simple thing like time, he would surely go mad.

Once Rachel got her glass of water the questioning began properly. The officers asked them to explain exactly what happened; what lead them to being locked in the closet and all the details they could remember. Before either of them began with their tale, Rachel and Will looked at each other. Will gave the girl's hand a final squeeze, a reminder that she could tell the truth. She could tell the cops _exactly _what happened. In front of him, he saw Rachel's brown eyes glisten once again and her pink lips turn up into a smile. Then she turned her head and stared the two officers in the eye before talking – telling them what happened.

"Mr Shuster and I were rehearsing," she began, clearing her throat slightly and taking a quick sip of water. "I pushed him into practicing our song one last time. However the power went out and I dropped my phone, unable to find it which was why I couldn't call my fathers to tell them where I was-"

"And I had left my phone at home," Will jumped in, wanting the police and Rachel's fathers to know that he couldn't have contacted anyone either. The two cops and two parents nodded their head in understanding. "Then we heard noises," Rachel continued, wanting to get to the part where the criminals actually came into the choir room. "We heard people coming closer because the power had turned back on and our song had begun playing rather loudly," She paused a moment and Will looked at her to see why. She was thinking of what happened next. Will knew what happened. They were found and held at knife point. So he told them that. He told them that three men came in and pointed a knife at them. Hiram had gasped and held onto his daughter tighter than before. "The ring leader made us sing for him and his two accomplices. Then he wasn't happy because I kept on asking if we could leave, I wanted Rachel to be safe and I just…I just wanted her to go home." He wasn't sure if he sniffled or his voice cracked, but he felt Leroy squeeze his shoulder for comfort. Clearing his throat and looking up at the police officer, Will continued. "They got mad because I kept asking for us to be let go, so they punched me. They punched and kicked me and Rachel," he turned to his young student and bit his lip. He couldn't look into her soft, innocent eyes without wanting to cry. Instead he squeezed her small hand and looked down at the table. "They kept trying to kiss and touch her so I fought back," Hiram gasped and pressed his lips to his daughter's cheek, whispering that she was okay and he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her again. Will tried to ignore the man's action; he finished his story as fast as he could so the family could go home. "I managed to kick and punch the other two guys off of me and I ripped the guy off Rachel, but unfortunately, that was when they shoved me and Rachel in the closet. I was pretty beaten up and Rachel had taken a few slaps and stuff too. We were locked in there for the whole night. We banged on the door and a called for help but…but no one came. We must have fallen asleep because, we heard Rachel's cell phone go off and…well…the rest you know." He swallowed and looked down at the table.

One of the officers had been writing everything down but both men looked at the two of them with complete sympathy. Soon they had their hands shaken, after providing descriptions of all three men and they were allowed to leave. Hiram had cried at listening to the two of them provide as much detail as they could and he had said he wanted to take Rachel home to rest as soon as possible when they were walking out of the station. To their surprise, Principle Figgins was waiting for them. He held a bottle of wine in one hand a bouquet of flowers in the other. Both were only small and probably cheap, but he looked just as tired and haggard as they felt. "William," he announced, standing from his chair and walking over to them. "Miss Berry, Mr and Mr Berry, I am so sorry that you all had to go through this traumatic ordeal. Please, I know it's not much, but accept these flowers and wine as a gift of my sorrows." Rachel accepted her flowers with a yawn and Will his wine with a quick handshake. "Thank you Principle Figgins," they all said in one way or another. Clapping his hands, the small Indian man babbled on for a short while about how he would like the two of them to take the week off to get over what had happened. Both teacher and student protested, however, each with their reasons.

"No I can't take the week off, what about Glee Club? Our competition is soon-" Rachel protested as much as she could, but her dad told her that she needed her rest. "Rachel I'm sure the Glee Club can handle your absence for a few days." Just as she was about to refuse again, her daddy put in his opinion. "Besides, you can barely walk. How on earth do you expect to dance when you're in such pain?" Will and Rachel then shared a look. They knew it was true. It was a miracle – or down to her immense acting skills – that she could show how little pain she was really in. As they had talked about it in the closet, a bit of pain was a given, but the amount of pain was in was probably true for what had happened to her. After all, she wasn't relaxed and so it hurt more. Reluctantly, Rachel agreed she would take the next day off of school but she would go back the next day; "I have to carry on as if nothing happened." It would be admirable, her determination, were it any other situation but Will wanted to crumble and beg for her to just go home and rest for a lot longer, just so she didn't have to relive what happened in the place _where_ it happened. He too agreed to take the day off, but like Rachel he would be back in the next day.

The two of them had to stick together. Will would not break his promise that fast. He had to protect her. Until those men that put her in this much pain were caught - not counting himself – he would be her protector.

For the rest of the week, they would pretend nothing happened. If anyone asked why Rachel was limping, she would say it was due to the attack she experienced by the three evil men, but apart from that she was ready to perform. Will said the same whenever someone asked him. They would stick together. Their story they told the police would be the _only_ story they would tell. They would not crumble and they would not allow what happened to them consume them.

At least, that was the plan…


	7. Chapter Seven: I'm Sorry

**Chapter Seven:**

**I'm Sorry**

Suffering in silence is one of the worst things a person could go through; whether this suffering is physical or emotional. In their rooms alone, Will and Rachel spent their single day away from their work and school life replaying and rethinking everything that had happened. Every moment and every detail of what had happened to them was amplified. Even though the actual time between them and their captive attackers probably only lasted at the most two hours, the rest with them being stuck and locked in that supply closet, it was more than enough time for them to experience something they had probably only ever seen in movies. Although both Will and Rachel had firmly stated they would return to school after a mere one day of rest, actually stepping foot onto the grounds – let alone into the school – was a mountainous challenge; physically for them both due to the afflicted torture their bodies were put under, through the beatings and injuries they had suffered. Their one day off had been spent similarly: resting and trying to block the images and 'video replays' that haunted their minds as the minutes dragged on and the hours barely passed.

Rachel had been tended to hand and foot by her doting fathers as she lay in bed, protesting weekly to keep up character. As expected, Hiram and Leroy Berry had taken the day off to look after their princess. To say they were prepared to take the rest of the week and the week after off as well wasn't entirely true. They weren't _prepared _to, as if their daughter's troubles were a burden on them. They would be there for her for as long as it took, even if she was adamant she only needed one day away from school to recover. Ever since they were told Rachel was theirs, they had sworn they would protect and love her no matter what. They had been at her side from the moment she was born, gracing their lives, and they had always said no matter what they would be there for her; whether she had a recital or an illness, they would be there: like all parents who loved and adored their child.

Each time one of her fathers would come up and sit with her, asking if she was okay and would she like anything to eat or drink – even though the bowl of fruit with glass of orange juice, or bowl of soup and water were seemingly untouched – or if she wanted to talk about what happened, she would softly smile and thank them with a light shake of her head as a refusal. Her eyes would be soft and seemingly tired, a light shrug and quiet yawn would complete her accompanied "I think I'll just watch a little television after a nap." A delicate kiss would be pressed to her forehead and a whispered, "I love you so much, Rachel. I'm so glad you're safe," would echo through her ears as she watched her dad or daddy walk out of her room and back down stairs, only for the young brunette to count just how long it would be until the next time this would all happen again.

For once in her life she was thankful for her acting classes and the skills she had acquired during them. In her bed, sat up against the head board with her _Musicals_ playlist tinkering in the background whilst she read or went her laptop, she would appear to be just exhausted. Where she could play off her fatigue as simply her body overwhelmed by what had happened to her fathers, in actual fact the throbbing between her legs was becoming a sort of deadly burn. Whenever she moved a hissing gasps would escape her lips and she would flicker her eyes to her bedroom door in case her fathers came in. She had gone on her laptop and searched how she could treat her pain. The internet was proving to be none helpful, because it kept coming up with words and diagnoses that she didn't understand and that she was pretty sure she didn't have like; _Vaginismus_ and _Vulvovaginitis_. It all seemed pretty frightening. Even though she had listened to and taken notes in the lectures during their Sex Education classes, they never mentioned these types of illnesses. STDs/STIs and 'always wear a condom' and 'if you have sex on your period you can still get pregnant' were all covered, but none of these scary sounding things. Instead, giving up hope on the internet considering she didn't even know why she was in so much pain in the first place, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Assuming she had some sort of friction burn or 'vaginal tearing' (as one website had mentioned) she found some cream in her bathroom cupboard that she hoped would sooth the burn. However, when she went to put the soothing cream – the only kind she had was the sort to treat a cut or burn – onto her sore area, the coolness would make it sting even more and small tears would leak from her eyes. In the end she gave up and was left to simply ignore it and sit in one place.

It was a time like this that she really wished that her mother had stayed in contact. A mom would know what to do in this situation.

Exhausted and exhaustion were the words Hiram and Leroy used to describe her. "She's exhausted from what happened" and "She's just overwhelmed with exhaustion what with everything she went through" were the phrases they told their concerned friends, relatives and colleagues when they called up to ask about Rachel. Their neighbours had witnessed the three Berrys being driven up their quiet, quaint, cosy street in a police car and when they asked what had happened, their hands flew to their mouths as gasped escaped them. The media hadn't been informed – much to everyone's pleasure – but all concerned and involved knew it wouldn't be long before the story broke out: all stories like this tended to catch the newspapers and camera's eyes. As soon as Hiram had ushered Rachel inside, one of their neighbours, Mrs Linz, a middle aged woman who lived with her three cats and service man husband, had taken hold of Leroy's elbow and told him that if there was anything she could do to please let her know. This was what Leroy liked about the neighbourhood he and his husband had chosen to raise Rachel in: the kindness of the majority of the people. Even though Mrs Linz and her husband had their own problems, being a part of the military and all, she was always willing to help out. He had thanked her and went in his house to tend to his emotional daughter and husband.

Quietly at the end of the day, as he held his husband when they lay together, Leroy had joked; "At least we won't have to cook this week." All of their neighbours had been more than generous: cooking dish after dish of breakfast foods, lunch platters and dinner pots, all over the course of one day! Hiram had scolded his husband with a scowl for even thinking such a horrible thing, but Leroy had calmed him saying that, although this was probably the only positive of the situation, they had to look for others to not focus on the negative. "She is alive and okay," he had told his husband in that firm but comforting tone. "She wasn't alone and she was protected. Yes, this shouldn't have happened and when the police catch the guys that did this, I'm going to want to give them a piece of my mind and a taste of their own medicine. But, we have to focus on the fact that she is okay and will be okay." Next to him, in his husbands strong and ever comforting arms, Hiram sighed and snuggled deeper into his warming protection; "You're right," he nodded his head slightly, "You're right and I am just so grateful that Mr Schuster hadn't left her alone."

"He isn't the kind of man that would, Hiram." Leroy reminded him with a soft kiss to his husband's shoulder.

Hiram shrugged with an almost dramatic sigh; "I know but, still, we know how ambitious and driven our little Rachel is. He could have just given her the key and left her there to practice all by herself."

"And I will thank God every day for the rest of my life that that man has the heart he has and the patience he has." Leroy told him with conviction and power that sealed his promise to God. He wasn't the most religious man, unlike his husband, but this made it more important to Hiram.

After a little pause, Hiram spoke up again. He had been blinking into the darkness, trying to clear his thoughts of what had happened to Rachel. He couldn't help but think of what could have happened. When Rachel hadn't come home, he had been going out of his mind with worry. It wasn't like her to be out long and it certainly wasn't like her not to call. When it had gone past midnight, he couldn't stop but think of what could have happened to her. He knew that the police wouldn't do anything until after twenty four hours of her being missing – and to think of her as missing made him feel even more sick – so he just had to try everything he could think of. When he heard Rachel's voice, his baby girl, his daughter, the apple of his eye, on the end of the phone after what had felt like days and days, he broke down and was so relieved that she was okay. The fact that she wasn't alone made him feel better too. If he or his husband couldn't be there to protect his precious gift, he was just glad someone Rachel knew was with him.

"We need to thank him properly," He told his husband, almost a whisper. He didn't want his daughter's heroic rescuer to be forgotten. "The janitor too," Hiram remembered, "He needs to be thanked." If it wasn't for the janitor finding Rachel's phone and answering the call, they might have been stuck in that closet a lot longer. Leroy nodded his head in agreement and it was decided that they would personally invite Mr Schuster over for dinner in thanks for his heroic deed.

Across the small town, Will however was not feeling so heroic.

Will was being taken of as well, not by his parents but by his friend Shannon Bieste. Or Coach Bieste as she was known as at the school. When she heard what had happened to her friend – honestly one of the best friends she had ever had whilst teaching – she cancelled football, hockey and all the other sporting activities she had planned for the next few days to make sure he was okay. She was a tough coach that worked her boys hard, pushing them harder and harder until they were at breaking point. She never let them give up and if they wanted to, if they were shouting and screaming about being pushed, she sent them off whatever court or pitch they were on and told them to rethink about being a sportsman. As tough as coach she was though, having to face the prejudice of being a woman in the world of sports and being judged as such, she had a heart. It wasn't shown often at school, but whenever one of her players or friends needed a friend to talk to, cry on or just to rant to, she was there.

Even though Will had also protested to being looked after, constantly telling Shanon that he was "Fine and capable to looking after myself!" She had stayed with him most of the day he had taken off, making him food and putting on the television for him to give him some background noise whilst he was going his work. She had driven over to his place the moment she heard what happened – not before stopping off at the store to pick up a four pack of Will's favourite beer and some dinner. She would wait as long as if took for him to get back from the police station and when he finally arrived in that police car, she told the officer and Will himself that he was not going to be alone and that she would be there for him. Where this was kind and generous of her, Will really did want to be left alone. What really bugged Will though – even though he was somewhat grateful for his friend being there for him – was that she kept on giving him pep talks. She knew what had happened, because Will had told her, and her response had been to sit down next to him and tell him what a good man he was.

"Will," she had stated, plopping herself across from him on his coffee table, "What you did was beyond courageous." Will had scoffed and shook his head, preparing to backchat and tell her that no, what he did was nowhere near courageous. That was certainly not a word to describe him as, especially if she, the police, Rachel's fathers, Principle Figgins and everyone else knew what exactly he had done. "No I'm talking Will!" She raised her voice and made him slump in his seat and listen to her as she told him what a good man he was. "You could have punched those guys in the face and gotten the hell out of there and left Rachel to fend for herself but you didn't. You stayed and took some made beatings to protect that girl." She looked him as best as she could in the face, but she could clearly see that he wasn't going to pay any attention whilst he was staring off into space. Trapped in his thoughts. "Will look at me," she told him with a soft tone. When he didn't, she tried again this time a little harsher. "Will, look at me" and he did. He turned his head slowly towards Shannon and sighed, nodding his head and allowing her to continue.

On the table she shuffled and shifted position to stare at him deep in his eyes. "Will," she started slowly and made sure he was listening and taking in everything she was going to say. "I heard what you had to say and I swear there was nothing more you could do to protect yourself and Rachel. This was a freak event that shouldn't have happened but you're going to move on and I'm going to help you. You're going to be okay and I'm going to be there for you. Everyone is going to be there for you. All you need now is your rest and to not beat yourself up over anything, okay?" The whole time Shannon hadn't blinked and Will could swear she barely breathed. Any other situation that probably would have been a very good pep talk and one worthy of some sort of award. But at that moment and in that situation, all Will could do was shrug and mumble that he wanted some rest.

Shortly after her pep talk, Shannon got up off the table, patted his shoulder and left, calling that she would be calling him in an hour to see if he needed anything. Will didn't really see the point considering she hadn't left him alone all day and he hadn't needed anything but silence all day too. He was left alone with his thoughts and the events of what had happened replaying in his mind again and again. Everything was haunting him: the look of fear on Rachel's face, her tears streaming down her cheeks, the menacing and sinister smile of the ring leader and all he could hear were shouts and screams from himself and Rachel as they begged and pleaded to be set free. One final thing he heard, however, was the pitiful cries and sobs that Rachel had made when he had finished raping her. Curling into himself on his couch, he held his hands over his face out of shame even though he was all alone and tried to block out those cries. He would never forgive himself. Sobbing into his personal darkness, "I'm sorry."

A week off was probably exactly what Will and Rachel needed. They needed the time to recover. Sleep and rest was needed and just the chance to try and relax, forget what had happened to them. They had both agreed to only take one day off, much to the surprise of both of Rachel's parents and Principle Figgins. Both Rachel and Will were hiding from the real reason why they didn't want to stay at home. They didn't want to stay off and away from their distraction. If they stayed home, they knew that the incident would be all they could think about. Even though their dreams were plagued with what had happened, they still wouldn't let what had happened harm them. Against everyone's wishes, they would go into school and act as normally as possible.

At eight AM sharp, the brunette stood looking up at the school she had attended for almost four complete years and saw it as no longer a place of learning and the stepping stone to her future dreams and career, but as a place she would have to get used to coming back to. She felt like a freshman all over again. Where before, as a real freshman, she was so excited to be in high school, to be and to experience everything she had seen on television and read about in young teen novels (not that she had read many) she was now nervous. After a week of high school she was slushied for the first time and now standing at the foot of the school, she felt herself shrink back into that 'fear of being slushied' state of mind. Only now, it wasn't a fear of being slushied, but something much more frightening. However, just like that second week of high school, the day after her first ever assault by a frozen beverage, she was not going to let this horrible incident get her down. Yes, what she had been through was scary and kept her up almost all night, she was okay. Yes, showering, taking her clothes off and putting them on and even sitting down and sleeping were acts that were positively excruciating, but she was going to ignore all that. Even though every step she took made her look like a baby penguin waddling through ice and snow, or Bambi taking his first steps, she wouldn't let it bother her. She would walk in through these doors and do what she had done ever since she first started at McKinley High; push her shoulders back, elongate her neck and put a smile on her face.

"If you're smiling, no one suspects anything is wrong," she told herself, whispering so that no one would actually bother her.

Shuffling his bruised and sore legs, Will went to stand by Rachel and make sure she was okay. He was absolute agony, had been since the moment he woke up in that supply closet, but he wouldn't let it show. He couldn't let anyone think anything was wrong. But then he also couldn't act as if everything was one hundred per cent okay. If he acted too suspiciously, they might catch on to what he did. Hiding the pain in his legs was probably going to be just as impossible as hiding the pain on his face. His bruises were darker and more prominent. Emma Pilsbury (the soon to be Mrs Doctor Howel once she married her dentist fiancé), the woman who he considered his second best friend in the school, had suggested putting on a little foundation if he was worried about people staring once she see him the day before to bring him over some soup. But no, he wouldn't wear makeup. He wouldn't cover up his visible pains, even if he had to hide his mental and emotional ones.

Trying not to grunt too much, but also not wanting to startle her too much, Will shuffled himself up to the girl he couldn't stop thinking about. On the one hand he didn't want to stop thinking about her. It was his act of constantly thinking of her that kept her safe. If for one moment he was selfish and didn't think of her, she could have been taken advantage of by those sick men and could have been killed by their hands or the ring leader's knife. If he hadn't thought of her, then she could have been put in even more pain. During their _act_ and before it, he had been thinking of her. He had been thinking of how to make it somehow better and make sure she was okay, even though there was no chance she would be _okay_. He hadn't stopped thinking about her from the moment those monsters broke in and he wouldn't stop thinking about her now.But on the other, he knew he would have to occupy his thoughts with something else.

"Hey Rachel," Will greeted in a quiet voice, showing how tired he was. As he expected, he hadn't slept much despite just how much sleep he had been getting. His voice was croaky and hoarse, so he cleared his throat before speaking again. "How are you feeling?" He asked, taking another tentative step forward. He knew it probably wasn't a great question to ask, but he had to know how she was. He hadn't stopped thinking about her and he had to know how she felt. "Hi Mr Schuster," Rachel smiled, her smile twitched when she saw his bruised face but she quickly ignored it. "I'm good," she replied, shrugging her shoulder as she continued, "A little sore and a little tired but aside from the expected, I'm okay." She gave him a tight smile and focused on his own injuries for a moment. His eye was a little swollen and had a deep purple colour to it; she was worried that the socket may have been broken or chipped somehow, but she had been reassured over and over that it was just bruised. His ribs were in a worse state considering they got most of the beating and kicking, but his eye was okay. Her dad and the doctor at the police station had compared it to a drunken boxing match: although the men had punched Will, they weren't punches that could do serious damage. She was happy about that, but that didn't mean he wasn't treated to serious damage elsewhere; his ribs and legs were badly attacked, and she couldn't help but bite her lip as a way of physically stopping herself from reaching out and caressing his damaged body.

Shaking herself out of her little worried and guilty thoughts, she asked him how he was as well. As predicted, he answered in the exact way she had; "A little sore and a little tired. Nothing unusual, as expected." He shrugged and tried to chuckle, tried to make light of his pain, but it hurt to do so and he clutched his throbbing side. "Ah God my ribs!" His muffled curse was hissed, and he held himself together to stop the agony. "Will!" Rachel gasped, seeing just how much he was hurting after a simple conversational chuckle, she staggered towards him, holding her hand and arm out to comfort him, her eyes filled with concern. When Rachel tried to steady him so he didn't hurt himself more, Will shook his head and told her he was fine, shaking his head and trying to suck in cooling air through his nose and letting it out as carefully as possible out of his mouth. "I'll be okay Rachel," he muttered, still trying to keep his tone light and 'fine'. "Just give me a second." Still with cautious eyes, the girl nodded her head but watched with her own guilty look on her face as her teacher took deep breaths and cursed lightly. After a few seconds, he was all right again and he straightened up.

Gulping down the last of his agony, he focused on his student. Compared to him, she looked fine. Her appearance was, as ever, spotless. She was dressed in her usual attire, her hair was down in its usual light waves and her make up – if she was even wearing any – made her look as fresh and beautiful as she always was. To anyone who didn't know what had happened, she looked normal. She looked exactly as how Rachel Berry would look. Except Will could see the slightly darker circles under her eyes and small cut on her lip, the light tinge to her cheek and of course he noticed her stance straight away. Normally she would have her feet planted firmly to the ground, rooted like a strong oak tree, legs and feet together like a pristine ballerina and her whole shape would be inline and perfect. Today however, her legs were slightly apart and her hip was jutted out.

As hard as he could, Will tried to keep his gaze on her face. Like a normal person – teacher, man – he tried to focus on her eyes and talk to her like it was any other day. But it wasn't any other day. It wasn't an ordinary Thursday. They had been attacked Monday evening, woken up together and rescued on Tuesday morning and had Wednesday off to recover. They shouldn't be here today. They both should be at home resting until the next week or maybe not even come back until after their scheduled week off. It was crazy they were both standing in front of the school. For Will, he thought it was crazy she was standing there at all. By her stance alone, he could see she must be in absolute agony. Once again the guilt flooded through him like a burst bank or a waterfall. He was the reason why she was standing like this and the reason why they were both staring up at the school as if it was some mythical beastly creature.

Sighing, and running his hand over his face and through his hair he whisper; "I'm so sorry." Hearing his apology, Rachel frowned and huffed out her refusal for it. "Will," she whispered strongly, "You have nothing to apologise for." Looking back at the school for a moment, she held her arm out and pointed, "What happened in there was not your fault. If anything it was my fault-" But hearing the girl blame herself, Will shook his head almost wildly and began to correct her. No matter how many times his friends and colleagues would tell him it wasn't his fault, he knew the truth and once again he would tell Rachel that yes, it was his fault. "Rachel please," he begged, desperation resounding in his voice, "How many times do I have to tell you that it all my fault! That I-" But Rachel yet again was not going to hear him say it once more.

In frustrated anger she stomped her foot, trying to tell him that what happened wasn't his fault and that once again it was her choice. However the movement sent a tidal wave of indescribable affliction throughout her body. She gasped and squeaked and squeezed her thighs together, trying to calm the pain. Her body had turned and twisted away from him. Tears prickled her eyes and she wanted nothing more but to hold herself and squeeze the burning sensation away. Will almost leapt forward in an attempt to shield her. His ribs and legs cried out in their own agony yet again, but he ignored them. Like before, he didn't care how he was feeling, as long as Rachel was okay he didn't care how his own body screamed at him for relief.

"Rachel, are you okay?" He asked in a rushed voice.

"I'm okay," she gasped, trying to breathe through it. "It just hurts a little that's all." They're lying was no use. In those few moments, they both realised that they were the only people who would see through the lies. Rachel could sense just how much Will's body ached just as much as Will could sense the same about Rachel. The girl looked up at her teacher and with a defeated breath, she pushed out a single tear and mumbled; "We'll be okay if we stick to our plan." Biting his lip, to stop it from trembling, Will tried to see just how Rachel could not want to go to the police and confess everything that happened. Why was she so adamant to keep his lie, his filthy secret, just that; a secret? Their plan was to keep quiet, but he just couldn't fathom why and how? "The pain will go soon," Rachel told him, as she managed to straighten up with Will's aid and help, "And we can forget all about it. Okay?" She looked into his eyes and waited for his approval in the form of a nod. He didn't know why he did it but after a few seconds of looking into her tired eyes, he did just that and they both escorted each other into the building and through the halls.

Just like when they were rescued and were being lead to the police cars, teacher and student were subjected to stares and whispers. As humiliating as it may have been, that everyone in the entire school knew what had happened and why they were covered with the looks of nightmares, an odd sense of calm came over one of them. For Rachel, this was one of the first times that she didn't mind being looked at. For once she wasn't being stared at because of her clothes or because she had gay parents or simply because she was that annoying but extremely talented Jewish girl who strutted around like the star she was to become. For once in her entire high school experience she was looked at with respect. A respect that could only come with the public knowledge that she had been through something so terrible and so horrible that the rest of them felt ashamed for their previous actions towards her.

When she had been given enough mirrored looks, she thought back to how her friend Quinn must have felt two summers ago. After giving birth and subsequently giving up her daughter (to her own biological mother). During her pregnancy she had been shunned and looked at with utter disgust. In the halls she had been called a slut and told that her baby was nothing more than a bastard and a mistake. Then once she had given up that precious baby, it suddenly hit everyone just how difficult it had been. It was something her friend was still going through, but privately. For a few weeks once they all got back after their summer vacation, Quinn had been given similar looks to the ones Rachel was being given now. It was strange, unusual but somewhat welcome. As if everyone had gotten over some over shock and they now wanted to show that they were…what…there for her? It wasn't true. They weren't there for her, but for at least these next two days or so, she could pretend they were.

As she passed classmates and younger students, she saw tight smiles and bobs and nods of heads being sent towards her. A few "Welcome back Rachel" were also muttered to her and she internally shook her head to really decipher if that had really been said. For a few moments, she felt calm and somewhat safe. The teenagers in her school finally didn't want to throw a frozen drink in her face or call her a mean name. But at the same time, as she found as she had almost made her destination, they weren't looking at her as if she was a normal student. Their looks were that, not of respect, but of pity. She didn't want their pity. Yes, she and Mr Schuster had been through something scary and horrifying, but she was fine. She was fine, moving on and getting on with her life. What she had been through was nothing like what had happened to Quinn. The looks she was being given were not needed because her pain would go soon. For Quinn, hers lasted a lot longer. As much as she loved to pretend she was okay and the fact she gave Beth, her daughter, up for adoption didn't hurt her as much, everyone in Glee Club could see just how much she still suffered and still how much it all hurt. Where Rachel was in physical pain, she knew it would go within a few days or weeks and that she wasn't alone. Where Quinn had no one to talk to about what she had been through, Rachel had Will. They had promised each other they would stick together and through their togetherness they would be okay. She didn't need anyone's pity or their empathetic looks.

Halting in the middle of a particular hallway, causing Will to stop too, Rachel looked around at the faces who were staring after her. She wouldn't cause a scene, but if the looks continued much longer, she would tell them all to stop. She was okay and didn't need anyone looking at her. Next to her, Will looked around also and saw they both had an audience. Where he had been trying to ignore all of the stares they had been getting since they walked in through the main doors, he could see that Rachel clearly hadn't been able to as easily. In Rachel's mind, she was a future Broadway star and being gazed after and looked at would become part of the job. But right now, that wasn't what she needed. What she needed was for everyone to stop looking at her. To stop scrutinising her and giving her those puppy dog eyes. He frowned, almost scowling, at a number of students before he cleared his throat and spoke out to them all in a booming teacher voice.

"All right everyone get to your homerooms!" They didn't need to be told twice as his command was unlike that of a teacher's but more of a drill sergeant. Comically they all began to disperse down corridors and through doors, whispers and moving feet being the only sounds to be heard. Ignoring them all, however, Will turned to his almost rigid student and placed a light hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?" He tried to look into her eyes to see if whatever answer she would give would be the truth, but she simply nodded her head and shrugged simultaneously. "I guess I just got a little frustrated with their looks," licking her lip and shaking her head, she turned to face him, releasing her own sigh. "Being looked at constantly isn't the best and most desired thing in the world I suppose." Her eyes flittered down to the ground as she shifted from foot to foot. Peering over the top of her head, on the lookout for any stragglers or 'paparazzi style' intruders, Will nodded in agreement and mumbled that he knew what she was meaning. Another shrug was felt and Will looked down at Rachel as she spoke up again, seeming to straighten herself up and be ready to prepare herself for the rest of her day. "I'm fine and you're fine. Together we are okay. We're alive and, yes okay we may be a little shaken up but it'll pass right?" Her deep brown eyes looked up to her teacher and he knew she wasn't really looking for a verbal answer. Mere recognition was all that was needed and so he nodded his head slowly at her. A smile graced her face and she gently pushed herself into his body, careful of his ribs.

Together they stayed close in a sort of hug; with Will still resting his hand on her shoulder and Rachel gently nestled into him, not really holding onto him but just making her warmth known. With his forehead creased and his eyes narrowing in a blank concentration, Will began to squeeze and rub Rachel's shoulder comfortingly. They both needed their moment, even if it was in the middle of the – for now deserted – hallway. "We'll stick together Rachel," he mumbled into her hair after he had placed his cheek to rest on the top of her head. "We'll be okay Rachel, just forget the looks and the talks and just try to forget this whole thing ever happened." Selfishly he was saying all that for himself. Rachel needed to hear all that, of course, but it was said purely to easy his own guilt. As much as he wanted Rachel to forget about 'the whole thing' he wanted himself to forget about it all too. The sooner he forgot about it all, the sooner he could stop feeling guilty and the sooner he could get back to normal. It was funny because it had only been one night and a day, but it felt like they both had been suffering through this whole ordeal for months!

Will's head was nudged up and down slightly as Rachel began nodding her head, slowly and then slightly faster. He was jerked away suddenly as Rachel pushed herself away from him and looked at his face with her showstopper beam. "You're right," she declared, nodding her head at him. "You're right Mr Schue, we need to try and move on from this. After all we have a competition soon and we need to be focused." Will wanted to interject, to tell her that she really should rest up before the competition, but his little brunette diva was on a roll with her personal pep talk. "We won't let what happened get in the way of anything; not winning at regionals, not school and not anything else that we need to focus on." And with that, she spun on her heel – wincing and gasping again as a shock of spasming misery coursed through her – and began to make her way down towards her homeroom. Not before, however, finishing with a dramatic; "Oh and my fathers want you to come to dinner tomorrow night to thank you for what you did." Again, beaming at him and nodding her head once as a finish, she went on her way, leaving Will to stare after her.

Why was she so good at making everything so easy? Why was she able to brush everything off? Why was he such a coward? And why on Earth would her fathers want her rapist over for dinner to _thank_ him?

Of course no one knew he had raped her. Not even Rachel knew she had been raped by him! Two questions screamed at him from inside his head: how was he supposed to carry on working that day as well as every other day and how was he supposed to sit in the home of the girl he hurt and pretend to her parents that he hadn't done anything wrong. He knew he had done wrong, so why did no one else? Why was Rachel so adamant to say he was innocent?

By the time Glee Club rehearsal had come around that afternoon, Rachel had brushed off enough comments about her health. As soon as Quinn had seen her in homeroom she refused to let her out of the bear hug she was giving her until she promised that she was okay. It was a difficult lie to tell considering Quinn was usually so good at getting the truth out of her. The blonde just had this way of knowing whether or not a person was lying or not, hence why the brunette had joked she would make an excellent police detective one day should she chose not to go into drama. As soon as she had wrapped her arms around her small brunette friend, her dams broke and tears were flooding Rachel's sweater.

"Quinn I'm okay!" Rachel shushed, but shuddered as her own few tears trickled out. In reply, Quinn shook her head and mumbled that she was sorry. "I should have let you come over!" She cried out, still with her face buried in Rachel's shoulder. "I shouldn't have let you stay here all by yourself-"

"I wasn't all by myself-"

"You know what I mean!" The blonde snuffled. She pushed herself off of Rachel but didn't let her go. Her face was wet and red with tears, her chin and lips trembling with trying to hold back more of her sobs. "I was so scared Rachel," she told her, snuffling and sniffling slightly. "Yours dads kept calling and they came over and everyone was looking for you," she paused to bite down on her lip. Rachel looked at her friend and tried to hold back her own tears as she thought of how worried everyone must have been. If any of her friends had been missing for any period of time, be it a minute or a day, she wouldn't stop searching until they were found. Quinn stroked Rachel's brown locks and then her cheek as she looked at her, "You scared me so much, but I know it wasn't your fault," she swallowed down a hiccup – not caring that the whole class of people were staring at the two of them by the door – and continued, "If I ever see those guys that hurt you, I swear I'll kill them with my own hands. No, I'll strangle them with my hands and kick them in their balls, break every bone in their bodies and then, just when their bleeding and begging for mercy, I'll put a bullet through their heads." As dramatic as her little monologue of revenge was, Rachel wasn't going to laugh it off. That drive to be the best friend she could be was seething through Quinn's entire body. Instead, Rachel nodded her head and the two hugged once more.

Each member of Glee Club had hugged her and told her how worried they were. She was met with more tears, bone crunching hugs and more love than she had ever received from her friends in her entire life. Santana, who had never really gotten on as well with Rachel as the other girls, even brought her into a tight hug. She lightened the mood by saying that there was no way Mr Schuster was able to spend the whole night in a closet with her, without taping her mouth shut because of all the talking she did. The tension at lunch was broken with that comment, and Santana had secretly held Brittany's hand under the table, squeezing it and rubbing her thumb over the back of her pale limb, as reassurance that everything would be okay. All of the friends were shaken up by what had happened to their team captain and team director. Brittany and Santana had stayed awake on the night of the incident, waiting for the call to say Rachel had been found and was okay. The bubbly blonde wasn't quite so bubbly and lay on her (more than) best friend, staring up at her and asking for reassurance that everything would be okay. Santana had run her fingers through Brittany's hair and placed soft kisses on her crown until the girl had fallen asleep. The next night, once they had been informed of what happened, she did the same, only this time the two faced each other and refused to let the other go for a single moment. Their skin never left each other's, and they hoped it would never have to.

For the whole day Rachel had been asked why she was walking so funny and she had brushed it off. Now, in Glee Club, she was stood in front of her friends and team mates with their director ready to tell them all that they were both okay. Will stood next to Rachel breathing softly so not to hurt himself any more. Principle Figgins had somehow arranged it that all of his classes could be in one room so that he didn't have to move around so much and that the room was on the ground floor so that he didn't have to strain his ribs and aching body. Still his classes had been a bag of questions. In every class he was asked how he was and what it was like being a hero? He too brushed every question off and shook with rage at one point when an absolutely inappropriate question was asked about how he could stand to be locked up with Rachel Berry. He had kept from shouting and screaming when that question was asked due to how sore he was, but the student would suffer in forms of detention and other school related punishments. But in front of his Glee Club, he had to remain strong. There would be no weakness or shown of suffering. He allowed Rachel to talk – deliver her speech of wellness – and at the end, they would all carry on as if nothing had happened.

"All we have to say," She finished, "Is that Mr Schuster and I are in some physical discomfort. My walking and consequently my dancing, is affected by a particularly bad fall I had during our attack. But I assure you, I will be fine for the competition and we will all perform to the best of our ability." She looked over at her teacher and smiled softly before beaming to her audience; "We will succeed no matter what." With all good pep talks a round of applause was heard and more hugs were given and soon they were all (minus Rachel) put into their positions for their first group number of the competition.

They were the New Directions, and nothing was going to stop them from winning.

Although they both hid it extremely well, being back in the choir room after what happened was a daunting and almost dreamlike experience. Will's office was within the choir room, separated by a door and windowed wall, and when he went in there for the first time once he had seen Rachel enter her homeroom, he was astonished at how strange it felt to be in there. The wind was sort of knocked out of him as he looked around, recognising all the places where he and Rachel had been thrown about; played with like they were toys and beaten like pieces of meat being tendered. Slowly he stepped into the room and he swore he felt chills shiver through his body when he stood in the spot where he had raped Rachel. Like a train rushing past him in a tunnel, he could hear the almost ghostlike moans and cries that Rachel had made whilst she was being raped. Squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head he tried to get rid of the sounds, but as he somewhat expected he just saw the rape happening in front of him. Like he was looking down on them, like God, he saw himself pound into Rachel. He saw the salty tears leak from the young woman's eyes as she clenched her teeth and fists, trying not to scream from and the experience of it all.

As he stepped away from the spot and walked closer to his office door, he shuddered again as he heard the laughs and jeers from the men, like they were watching a sports game. All around the room he could hear Rachel's cries, her echoing pleas and begs to be let go, to be allowed to go home and curl up into the arms of her dad and daddy. He could hear his grunts as he was punched again and again as punishment for begging for their release and the kicked blows to his shins and ribs for begging for them to let Rachel go. Once he finally made it to his office, however, he tortured himself by looking over to the supply closet. The closet that he and Rachel had been stuffed into and left to bleed and cry, was mocking him, almost as much as his own thoughts. He couldn't look at the door without feeling rage and guilt. He shook his head and walked into his office to prepare for his day.

When she walked into the choir room for practice, Rachel also felt her own haunting feelings. She remembered everything that happened in that room of course, but she instead chose to focus on all the positives that had happened in that room: singing and dancing with her friends, pep talks and hugs…all the positives. But of course, the more she walked into the room the more she negative memories she remembered flooded through her mind yet again. As much as she could focus on the positives, the negatives were easier to see and harder to push away. Her breathing had picked up slightly as she walked through and it almost stopped when she stood in the place where she had laid on her back and had sex with her teacher. She was alone and she stood in the spot, clutching onto her backpack. Like an electric shock or bolt of lightning, she suddenly gasped and looked around as she felt something within her fizz. Her chest thumped and her head pounded slightly, but she shook herself mumbling to stop thinking about what had happened. Typically by the time she had made it to her usual seat in the choir room, Quinn, Brittany and Santana filtered through and the room returned to its normal state.

Friday was much the same. From the moment the two of them entered the school, still together, they were given looks and whispers were made about them. Will used all his power as a teacher as he could and Rachel used her 'star in training' mode to the best of her ability. Still all her friends huddled around her but tried to keep everything as normal as possible. For Will, Shannon and Emma were checking that he was okay too, making sure his bruises and ribs were healing. He moaned at them for overreacting to his eye, but Shannon had told him that if at any point he felt he was losing vision or had dizziness he should go to the nurse and then the hospital as soon as possible. He had rolled both eyes at her, but truthfully he was somewhat happy for their fuss. But mostly, he felt that he deserved every ounce of pain he was in. Nothing would be more painful, he thought, than sitting through dinner with Rachel and her fathers.

Reluctantly he had agreed to go to dinner and he was dreading it. The two men wanted to make him out to be some sort of hero but all he wanted to do was confess. He was no hero and he had to make them see that in fact he was a monster. Rachel was too naïve to see it, but he _had_ raped her. He had to tell them and he had to confess to the police. But he wouldn't. As much as he may want to, he knew he was too much of a coward to do so.

Upon entering the Berry household for their traditional Shabbat dinner, he felt nervous, guilt and shame as he was greeted and hugged by Rachel's dad and daddy. The men had shaken Will's hands with such gratitude and Hiram had even brought him into a hug. The shorter man left a tear on Will's jacket before being dragged off by Leroy with a chuckle.

"Let the man breathe sweetheart!" He chuckled and led Will into the dining room. Rachel was setting the knives, forks and spoons in the correct places before she beamed up at her teacher when she saw him come in. "Good evening Mr Schuster," she said in a light and cheerful voice. It was slightly strained however, but the man didn't ask about her injuries; especially not with her fathers so close by. "Good evening Rachel," he said back with a light smile. "The food smells delicious. Did you make it?" He commented, his eyes following the bowls of soup being brought out by both Leroy and Hiram. "Oh Rachel usually makes an excellent chicken soup," Hiram praised, smiling at his daughter and then pressing a sweet kiss to her crown. "My mother taught it to her when she was younger and she's been perfecting the recipe ever since!"

"The soup tonight may not be as delicious I'm afraid," Leroy joked, standing next to Will and shaking his head at his overly affectionate and fussy husband. "Rachel has merely been a backseat driver in tonight's cooking."

"That's true; we haven't allowed her to lift a finger." Hiram nodded, pulling his daughter close. "We want her to rest and heal as quickly but as efficiently as possible."

"I think my leg injuries won't stop me from cooking dads!" Rachel groaned, as her daddy held her chair out for her and practically forced her to sit in it. "Well I'm not taking any chances." Hiram scolded, tucking a lose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Neither am I," Leroy said, checking the wine label. "You still can't walk nearly as well as I would like and I want you to rest." He then turned to Will with a somewhat serious expression, "Please will you make sure Rachel isn't dancing too much? Not as a doctor but as a father, I don't want her to get hurt whilst-"

"Dad please-" Rachel interjected, but before an argument could be made, Hiram cleared his throat and sent the both of them a look that would have been funny in any other situation.

After reciting the quick prayers over the candles, bread and wine, the four of them sat down at the table and began to eat. A toast, however, was made in Will's honour which made the man want to sink into his chair. In fact he wanted the ground to swallow him whole and never let him be spat out. However, so not to appear suspicious or ungrateful he accepted the toast and sat in silence as he listened to the Berry family praise him.

"He was so heroic," Rachel gushed. She was sat next to her teacher and she couldn't help but place a hand on his arm and praise him more. "If it weren't for him-"

"Oh Rachel please don't," Hiram begged, not wanting to think, yet again, of the 'could have been'. Leroy turned to Will and raised his glass again. "She's right Will," he said with a fatherly smile, "Without you there something much worse could have happened. We'll be forever grateful to you." He took a quick sip of his wine before finishing, "Please don't be a stranger around here. I know that it may be a little strange and unorthodox for a teacher to be over for dinner at a student's house but, you're not a stranger to us Will. You really are our hero." He smiled graciously and made yet another toast in Will's honour.

That night, once he was finally allowed to leave the cosy yet suffocating confines of the Berry house, Will collapsed into bed with sobs ripping from his chest. The guilt he felt was heavy in his chest and the only way to relieve himself of it was through his harsh sobbing. He couldn't help it but cry all night and beg for his guilt to be gone. Of course he knew he wouldn't be free from it for a while. In the meantime, he had to suffer with himself and allow his punishment to mentally play on him.


	8. Chapter Eight: Stage Fright

**Chapter Eight:**

**Stage Fright**

By some form of Glee Club/upcoming show choir competition miracle, over the next week, both Rachel and Will's injuries had healed up. Rachel's more so due to the rest she was forced to take by her fathers and the lack of complicated dancing with the Glee Club rehearsals. Slowly she had built up her stamina after resting her muscles and once the pain had completely subsided, she was able to perform as well as she could before. For Will, he was able to walk without limping as much, clear that his legs would take a little longer to heal, but he was feeling the effects of the 'miracle' too. It appeared as if their aching bodies simply needed time and rest; just as everyone had told them both. Where their physical injuries were healed and appeared as if they were never inflicted upon them, their mental and emotional injuries however were only really beginning to surface.

And in one of the worse ways possible for everyone concerned.

Mostly for the young diva.

As far as Rachel was concerned, she was able to be a showstopper with her voice alone. Her dancing abilities were perhaps a little bit affected, but she wasn't going to let that stop her from winning the competition. If she couldn't dance, then she would simply sing and melt their crowd's hearts before wowing them back into life for her solo; for the group numbers, she would just figure something out, as long as she could sing. But it appeared as if Glee Club 'magic' was able to make sure she would be able to be an all-round performer. Once Mr Schuster had left her home after their Friday night dinner, she was sent to bed and told to stay there for the weekend. At first she thought her fathers were exaggerating, but before she could even get up to go the bathroom, her daddy was walking into her room with a tray of breakfast and an order not to get out of bed unless absolutely necessary. Both men told her, yet again, to rest and take it easy as they knew she was still healing – convinced her odd walking was due to a leg injury. Rolling her eyes, not wanting to cause another tearful argument, she agreed to stay in bed and only do a minimal amount of walking. As it turned out – annoyingly, she thought – her parents were right. It turned out parents really did know everything, even when they didn't exactly know _everything_. After a weekend of bed rest, she found her lower half to be almost seemingly cured and she couldn't wait to tell her teacher/hero the good news. He, however, was still not quite as healed as she was.

Although the swelling had gone down considerably on his face and the bruising on his shins, his ribs were still keeping him up at night and he was constantly irritated. The doctors had informed him that, amazingly and miraculously, none of his ribs were broken. They were simply bruised and just incredibly sore. Still his breathing was intact and he just had to be careful. Bending down was a near impossible task and he cursed loudly and frustrated whenever he dropped something; a pen, a sock, a piece of food, but he was coping. As long as he was under the impression that he was going to heal eventually, then he was fine by that. Time was all that was needed in his mind and time was what he was going to give himself. He wasn't the most active man on the planet; dancing and the occasional weekend run were his main form of exercise, but he found that just walking up the stairs to his apartment kept him active enough. There were to be no leisurely swims in the school's pool – to which all the teachers were allowed to use whenever the members of the opposite sex weren't using it – and no strenuous tasks to keep himself fit.

Light exercise was all he was capable of, but as far as he was concerned again, all of his physical pain was punishment for what he had done. Keeping him up at night, apart from the still on-going thoughts of what had happened, were the nagging thoughts of researching what he had done. In his mind, he knew he had raped her. He had forced himself upon Rachel. The teenager had been forced to pick who she wanted to rape her. What they had done was illegal and what he had done should be unforgivable. But Rachel was convinced that what they had done was not illegal, just unfortunate. _Unfortunate_! Disgraceful and disgusting was more like it as far as he was concerned. Surely anyone could see that what he had done was rape and that he should be punished?

But, what if Rachel was right? What if he _hadn't_ raped her? What if what they had done really was consensual? If it was so, then was his guilt really there because he knew that by sleeping with a student was wrong? Was he feeling guilty because of that, and not the fact it was rape? Sure, she was going to be eighteen soon and _legally_ the age difference wasn't a problem. But that was a problem: technically she was a minor. In the eyes of the law he, a thirty something man, had had sexual relations with a minor. And not just a minor; he, a teacher, had had sex with a student! It was the sort of stuff people were outraged by! Newspapers and media crew had the times of their lives with a story like that! He would be thrown out of every community should people know what happened. He didn't know what was worse: him _raping_ Rachel or just having sex with her? Either way, thinking about if for too long prompted him to get up out of bed as quickly as possible and rush as well as his sore ribs could handle and throw up in the toilet.

Out of breath from both heaving up dinner and from the ache in his ribs from crouching down to the toilet bowl, Will closed his eyes and shook his head. There was no way he could possibly research about what he had done. Where on earth would be begin and what the heck could he start to type into his search engine? _What counts as rape? Is it rape if someone is forced to sleep with someone even if both parties didn't want to do it? Is it rape if the guy is forced to and the girl is somewhat consenting? Is it consent if a girl is forced to pick between two people to rape her?_ Should he ever confess to what he had done – the 'if ever' being taken into account as to how he would word his confession in a similar way to internet searches – the police would just love to read his internet history. Alongside looking up various songs for the upcoming competitions and Glee Club rehearsals, they would find all these facts and questions about rape: how guilty and ridiculous would that make him look? No. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't look it up on the internet and he certainly couldn't walk into a lawyer's office and start asking questions. No. There was no one he could talk to without giving away his secret, their _plan_.

All he could focus on was the competition. School/work, getting better and the competition. That's all he would think about. At least consciously.

After their mere weeks of hard work and dedication, the competition night had rolled around. Considering the New Directions had scored the most points in all the schools competing in this section of the competition, luckily for them, it was being held at their school. Grins were sported and confident smirks were paraded as they all felt as if they had the upper hand. Not only were they convinced their performance was no doubt a 'knock out' – as it had been described as by boxing fans Artie and Puck – but they felt the upper hand, an advantage against the other competitors, because they knew the stage perfectly. Sure the others will be able to get a chance to practice, but they only had thirty minutes each to get themselves accustomed to it: they knew this stage perfectly. When Rachel had brought this piece of information up during one of their rehearsals, the others had found it an odd comment to make. Most of them didn't think it was a very important factor and therefore replies had been a collection of "So?" and shrugs. But then, as they watched (spied on) the competition, they realised that Rachel was right; knowing and familiarising with the stage was important. It was a small comment but if it came from their resident diva then they knew it must have been an important one.

They were the third out of five acts to perform and the kids were buzzing with excitement and nerves. Brittany and Mike were in a corner perfecting their dance solo again and again with Santana watching proudly and blowing good luck kisses to her best friend. Tina, Mercedes and Kurt were running through vocal scales to warm up their voices at the piano, whilst the rest of the boys went over their songs and dance moves: practice makes perfect after all. Sat down on the bleacher chairs, Quinn and Rachel were making sure their appearances were perfect; considering Quinn was under the impression that their looks were just as important as their voices, more for her considering in this particular competition she didn't have an outstanding solo. The main solo went to Rachel, an 'of course' moment had rung through the choir room when it was announced, with Sam and Santana making a somewhat surprising duet during one song and Mercedes and Blaine finishing off the final duet slot in their third and final song. Everyone was going to play their part in (hopefully) winning the competition. They had worked hard and couldn't wait to show the judges and the audience exactly what they could do.

Will stood by his office door, watching as his kids all prepared themselves for the completion. He was so proud of them all, but mostly he was proud of Rachel. It was somewhat noticeable that he had taken a lot more care and attention to the brunette soloist, but everyone understood why. He was amazed that she was able to pick herself up and act as if nothing had happened. When she skipped to him seemingly completely fine, he thought he was having some sort of hallucination. It appeared as if she had never been any sort of pain at all. When he asked about how she was, she simply twirled around and jumped in the air enthusiastically, raving about how she's never felt so good. Physically that is. Her aches, pains and genuine agony were gone. Her body was healed. Her _downstairs_ felt fine and she (much too honestly) compared the slight dull ache she had been feeling momentarily as the kind of cramps she got when she was menstruating. As happy as Will was for her, he couldn't quite get himself to believe she was one hundred per cent okay. Of course, he didn't tell her this. Beaming at her and nodding his head, he told that he was glad she was okay and told her in the most chipper voice he could muster; "Better get back to practicing. The competition isn't going to get any weaker now that our star performer is better!" Like the old Rachel Berry, she had then nodded her head and rushed for the rehearsal rooms where the drama, dance and band students practiced.

Shaking his head, Will brought himself out of the questioning thoughts his mind had been blasting him with. Maybe Rachel really was okay. After all, she had her fathers for support and he had been nothing but rude and petulant to Shannon and even Emma. Maybe the whole thing was in his head. Maybe he should just stop thinking of the negatives and focus on some positives. As Rachel had said, they were well, okay and alive. They had to move on and stop thinking of the 'what could have been'. Perhaps his guilt was unnecessary and stupid. Maybe he really should just forget about what happened. Charging fully into the room with the biggest grin on his face, Will clapped his hands and called his kids in for a pep talk.

"All right guys come around here!" He called out, and like bees to the honey hives they all rushed over to him with giggles and shouts of "Sure!" Kurt and Blaine stood together with their arms around each other, similar to how the others boys stood – arms around their shoulders and looking as if they were about to go out there and score winning touchdowns instead of hitting high notes and perfect dance moves. Brittany and Santana clutched each other's hands and Santana pressed a quick kiss to her best friend's head as a 'good luck' gesture before they left the room (even though she would give her another one before they actually went on stage). The beaming blonde looked up at her Latina and winked subtly to her, and giggled as a light blush caressed Santana's tanned cheeks. Tina and Mercedes had their arms linked with Rachel and Quinn having their arms wrapped completely around each other, for a moment forgetting they had just perfected their makeup and could have potentially smudged their hard work. They didn't really care, however, as they, and all the other kids, smiled as big and wildly as they could whilst they listened to their teacher's inspiration good luck speech.

Looking each one of his kids in the eye, Will took his time to make sure they all understood just how proud he was of them. He stared into each twinkling, sparkling, and beautiful pair of eyes and nodded his head at each and every one of them. He had to make sure they all knew how special he thought they each individually were. They may not all be having a spectacular solo this time round, whether that was singing or dancing, but they all needed to know that, no matter how much they joked and said that Rachel was their star performer overall, they were all talented and brilliant no matter what they did. They weren't background dancers or backup singers to anyone; they were all stars and they all shone brighter than supernovas. For a second, Will could feel an Oscar winner's tear form in his eye, but he quickly willed it away as he focused on what he had to say.

"Guys," he began with a gracious sigh, "There isn't much I can say that I haven't already said."

"And no one likes a broken record!" Kurt jibbed, which lead to chuckles and a quick pat on the back for his witty remark. Will laughed too and nodded his head. "Very true, but I do want to say that, you have all worked incredibly hard-"

"We better had, what with all the rehearsals we've been forced to put in!" Santana mock grumbled, causing Brittany to bump her hip and whisper rather loudly, "Didn't tire us out too much though," which made the Latina blush and the round of laughter start up again. They may all have their suspicions as to what that comment was referring to, but now wasn't the time to question. Will shook his head, again smiling widely, "I know it was all probably a pain-"

"Got that right," Puck joked, dramatically clicking his neck and making Tina and Mercedes wince and groan at the sound. Again Will carried on, wondering briefly if he was ever allowed to make a speech without being heckled! "The point is guys, that you have all worked so incredibly hard and I think that if these judges don't see just how talented you all are, then they are blind and deaf!"

"And don't forget stupid!" Finn commented with his own bright smile. Laughter erupted again and Will shook his head for the last time. "Well I wasn't going to say that, but basically yes!" Whoops were heard and they all looked towards the door, knowing their time had come. Clapping his hands again, Will applauded; "All right, time to go out there and win!" All hands were put in the middle of their circle and a chant was then performed.

Just as the hands were about to fly up like graduation caps, however, Will noticed one hand was shaking more than the others. He followed the slim, delicate and soft tanned hand up to reveal the face of their star soloist: Rachel. Although she had the face of an excited and confident performer, Will could see that she wasn't as confident as she was trying to play off. Her hand was shaking with the tell-tale signs of nerves and…and something else. Their eye locked, typically, and Will smiled at her. Hers in return, however, was stiff and her eyes weren't shinning as brightly as the others or as much as they had done before. Something was wrong, but Will just didn't know what. Hopefully it was just the usual stage fright jitters, something astonishingly rare in Rachel, but he supposed not something she was immune to. But before he could question her about it, the final "New Directions!" was shouted and Quinn was pulling her out the door and up to the stage.

The announcement was made and it was finally their turn. All the kids had hugged and wished each other good luck and now Rachel was stood behind the curtain, ready to belt out her solo and show the completion exactly who was going to win. But as soon as she stepped onto that stage, she knew she wasn't going to perform to the best of her ability. In fact, she could feel herself not being able to perform at all. The curtain went up and her confidence went with it. She stared out onto the pack audience and took a deep breath. Her eyes were suddenly petrified and her whole body filled with fear and dread. For a moment she tried to calm her nerves by taking a few simple breathes. However that did nothing and she could not only feel her hands shaking, but she could feel her legs wobbling and her feet unstable. Her head felt dizzy and no matter how many times she blinked, she couldn't clear the growing fuzziness. She felt sick but empty. Her palms were sweaty and her breathing was taking on a life of its own. Her face was also suddenly itchy. It felt as if two separate ant armies were running up and down her cheeks and a group of termites were crossing her forehead. But she was rigid. Stuck still completely. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't scratch at her face and she couldn't move.

For the first time ever, Rachel Berry was frozen on a stage and there was nothing she could do about it.

Music began to play and Rachel had missed her cue. Instead, all that was heard was the powerful ballad track as if it was an instrumental piece. Everyone in the audience was waiting for her exceptional singing voice to grace their ears, but after a few seconds, it was clear that wasn't going to happen and frowns of confusion were instead gracing their faces, instead of astonishment. At first, some of them thought that the New Directions simply had some sort of trick up their sleeves. They had done original songs before so maybe this was what it was. Maybe a completely original take on a well-known song? But no. It was suddenly made apparent and completely clear that the star of the show wasn't going to sing. Out in the audience, Leroy and Hiram were whispering to each other, trying to decipher whether they should go up there and see if she was okay. Being a doctor, Leroy was trying to work out if she was having some sort of attack; breathing or panic? He chose the latter and thought it was best to go up there. For the next few minutes, she scrambled his way across the row he was on and tried to get to his baby girl.

Backstage, all the New Directions kids – and the other performers – had their jaws slacked and their eyes wider than ever. They couldn't fathom as to what was happening. Rachel never had stage fright and she never forgot a song. Ever! Even when she had laryngitis, she still sang. What was wrong with her? The other competitors were astounded that the infamous-bound-for-Broadway-stardom Rachel Berry was stood on the stage and unable to sing a single note. Frozen like an icicle. Petrified like a ghost. Silent like midnight darkness. Hardly a whisper of a tune coming from her. A few whispers were uttered amongst the others, saying how they may now have a chance at winning against the New Directions. Was it possible that the impossibly fantastic Rachel Berry wasn't so perfect when it came to performing? This would certainly go down in the history of 'what the heck' moments.

"Do you think she's finally choked?" One girl asked in amazement.

"I have no idea!" Her friend answered, shaking his head. "Maybe?"

"Maybe she's finally cracked!" Another girl, sounding happy and excited over the prospect of Rachel not being able to sing at the completion due to some sort of fright, whispered back. "This is our chance to finally win!" She cheered quietly, although hardly able to contain her giggles of pure joy.

Unable to stand by and listen to the bitches of the other schools whisper about her friend, Quinn stepped up to the curtain. Her brow was furrowed and she tried to figure out what it was exactly that was wrong. The music was playing, the lights were on, she had warmed up; why wasn't she singing? "Rachel?" Quinn whispered, trying to get her friend's attention. "Rachel what's wrong?" The blonde just couldn't work out why her friend wasn't singing. Something was wrong, but what? It felt like only seconds ago that they were laughing about wiping the floor with the competition, singing with absolute victory when they got to hold the trophy and imagined themselves simply just sailing through to the next stage, all with well-practiced, gracious smiles on their faces. Next to her, Finn jumped in nervous confusion. "Sing!" He shouted, seeing if that would work. "Sing Rachel! Sing the song!"

"Rachel sing!" Puck echoed, "Come on Princess, you know this!"

"Why isn't she singing?" Brittany whispered to Santana, who simply shook her head and shrugged, offering her best friend a pathetic; "I don't know Britt."

"Can she not hear the music?" Artie asked, looking up at Mr Schuster, who also shrugged. He stared in disbelief. Rachel had impeccable hearing and even if she couldn't hear it, she would still be singing. She knew the beat and the tempo, the rhythm…everything! Perfectly! Just as if she had written the song herself. "Hey is the music loud enough?" Sam asked a nearby stage crew member. Will blinked and stepped forward, closer than anyone to the stage. He could probably be seen by the audience but he didn't care. "Rachel?" He called out at normal volume, "Rachel, are you okay?"

Suddenly Rachel snapped her attention to the wing and locked eyes with Will. Immediately he saw the wide eyes of a scared, terrified girl. Standing on stage before him was not the confident girl he had seen for the past week. Instead he was met with the girl from the night from their attack. Her chest was heaving and from his spot not too far away he could see the balls of sweat glistening on her skin. Without thinking, he leapt onto the stage and grabbed hold of her shoulders. Her eyes were bulging out of her head and she was making strange, rapid breathing sounds. Her whole body was shaking as if she was suffering from some sort of shock and he couldn't help himself but take hold of her shoulders to keep her still.

"No get off me!" She screamed and the music stopped. Clearly, the audience thought, this was not part of the performance. Boos and chants were called out and the organiser of the completion came onto the stage, along with Leroy. "Rachel?" He asked, placing his hand on her shoulder, "What's wrong sweetheart? It's dad, tell me what-" But Rachel continued to back away. "Please get away from me! I'm sorry! Let me go, please!" Just as Leroy had silently confirmed, Rachel was having a panic attack and he instructed Will to help her get off the stage. "Will, where is the green room?" He asked, and Will told him he would show him. The father then took hold of his little girl in a similar way he had seen nurses hold patients at the hospital. She battered and thrashed against him, convinced he was one of her attackers, but Leroy knew that would probably happen. He knew it wasn't wise to restrain someone having a panic attack, but it was the only way he could get her away from the bright lights and the stares.

"Quick kids, go on and do the two songs!" Will instructed the rest of the club, who were still stood in the wing, shock and confusion washed against their faces. "But what about Rachel?" Quinn asked, "Is she going to be okay?" They all watched as Rachel was led away from the stage and taken to the choir room where Hiram was to join them both. Shaking his head and trying to remain calm, the teacher addressed his students. "She will be," Will lied – well, hoped. "Just go out there and perform, okay? We still might be able to win this."

"Might?" Mercedes asked with a slight bite to her tone. "What do you mean 'might'?"

"He means without the solo we could be disqualified." Tina told her, sighing in frustration.

"Well can't someone else sing it?" Kurt asked, looking around to see if a stage manager could start the song again. Running his hand on his face, Will shook his head. "There's no time! Look, please just go out there and try, okay?" And with that, he rushed off away from the stage and left his kids alone to try and salvage their place in the competition.

Inside the 'green room' Will was slightly taken back by what he saw. Rachel was sat in her father's lap like a young, little girl, sobbing into his chest whilst her daddy rubbed her back and tried to calm her down. Over and over again, he could hear her cry out "I'm sorry" and "I've let everyone down!" to which both men told her that she hadn't let anyone down and she had nothing to be sorry about. Rachel was hiccupping but breathing normally, which was good considering Will was afraid she might have needed to be taken to the hospital for some breathing aid – worst case scenario of course. He stepped into the room, shedding his jacket as he did and went over to the family. Hiram looked up and smiled sympathetically, shrugging his shoulders. "It was a panic attack," he informed the teacher, "We thought so when we saw her." He shook his head slightly, also sharing the disbelief at the 'diagnosis'.

A panic attack from Rachel was unheard of, just like her ability to get stage fright. Of course she was still human and she was of course _allowed_ to get nervous and have panic attacks, but not on stage. It was like a fish suddenly forgetting how to swim; it was impossible! Will just looked at her in the shared dumbfound amazement. How could this happen? How could Rachel have a panic attack in her most comfortable place? The stage was her second home! She had been performing ever since she could remember. Neither of her parents could fathom it either. She had been doing so well. Since the attack, they had both been expecting this sort of reaction from her but they were sure it would happen in the form of a nightmare or hearing a noise whilst she was at home or in school. Not on the stage. Not during a competition she had been looking forward to.

"I'm so sorry," Came the meek little voice. The almost impossible little voice. It was scared and timid and Will would never have thought Rachel would sound that way. He realised she was addressing him and frantically he shook his head. "No, no, no," he told her, kneeling in front of her and wanting so badly to put his hands on her knees and comfort her in some way. Her fathers were holding her in their parental/fatherly protective and concerned way. He knew he should have done something that a teacher would do. Behaved like a teacher. But ever since that night, he felt he was something else to Rachel. He wasn't more than a teacher or less than a teacher, but he was just…different. They had a bond, something he would never have with any of his other students, she would never have with any of her other teachers and probably something they would both never have with anyone else. Slowly, he raised his hands as he shushed her calmly, and placed them on top of her trembling knees.

His eyes were sympathetic and calm, but inside he was boiling with anger at the possible knowledge of why she had this panic attack. It was because of their physical attack. It had to be: Rachel would never react this way otherwise. As the realisation dawned on him, his eye twitched with fury and he yelled inside his head at the anguish of what those men had done. If they had taken away Rachel's ability to sing and perform as well as to feel safe and comfortable, then he wanted to take something away from them. Their freedom was something he wanted to take from them, but he wanted something more from them. But now that wasn't his concern. As always Rachel was his priority and he had to make her stop apologising and feeling guilty. Softly, he held onto her knees and tried to steady them. They trembled with her sobs; at least that was better than them shaking because of being unable to breathe.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Rachel," He told her softly, his voice like warm caramel, just trying to sooth and calm her down. "It's okay, haven't let anyone down-"

"Yes I have!" The girl sobbed loudly, holding her face in her hands with despair. "I've let the whole club down! All I had to do was sing my solo and I couldn't! I could sing a song I've sung a million times. I couldn't just stand on that stage and sing; it's like breathing to me and I couldn't do it!" She sobbed harder for a moment; all three men looking at each other with worried, creased foreheads. Leroy licked his lips and attentively asked; "Sweetheart, what do you think triggered this off?" He flickered his eyes to his husband for a moment, seeing if he could decipher what had happened. Like Will, Hiram and Leroy thought they knew what caused the panic attack but they needed to hear it from Rachel. Like Will, they knew it had to have been something big for her to freeze like that.

Sniffling and composing herself momentarily before crying again, Rachel shook her head and cried out what happened. "As soon as I reached the middle of the stage, I knew something was wrong," she told them shaking her head but then looking thoughtfully at the ground. She recalled every moment she was on that stage and tried to pinpoint everything, statically at first, but slowly building herself up as her thinking took on. "At first my chest got really tight and felt like I couldn't breathe. At first I thought it was just nerves and that I'd be able to shake it off. But, once the curtains opened and I stared out into the crowd I just," she shook her head and looked at her feet in almost a shameful way. "I just froze. I just knew I wouldn't be able to go on, but my feet were like glued to the floor. I couldn't breathe and I knew I was panicking but I couldn't stop. My chest was so tight and I could feel myself sweating and just…I don't know. I couldn't breathe and I've messed everything up!" Towards the end of her recounting, she started to cry again. This time, however, she leant her head on her daddy's shoulder and he brought her closer to him, rubbing her back and shushing his baby girl so she would feel better.

Both Leroy and Will looked at each other with worry coloured on their faces. A silent dialogue must have been spoken between the two of them, because Will suddenly, after a few moments of intense staring, stood up and sighed deeply. "It's because of the attack," he announced, pacing the room and waving his arms behind his back to calm himself down. "Pure and simple it's because of the attack. Those cowards have frightened her to the point of making her lose herself!" He was getting worked up and knew he had to calm down. Leroy had stood up and clapped a hand on the teacher's back and brought him to sit down next to Rachel. "Don't worry," he spoke to neither one of them in particular, but to both of them so they would feel included together. "These things happen. It's common when people have gone through a traumatic experience. People get angry, tearful, panicky…they just react in a way that isn't completely them but it's okay." He spoke slowly and calmly; doctorly, trying to make sure they both understood that what they were feeling was normal. He finished his speech by softly saying; "Physically you're both okay now, but emotionally these scars will take longer to heel." Smiling softly at his daughter when she raised her head, he whispered to her, "It'll take more than a few hugs and kisses and a little longer than a week to feel better, sweetheart." With tears glistening in her pink eyes, tear drop hanging from her long eyelashes, Rachel nodded her sore and heavy head and leaned it against her daddy again. Leroy then turned to Will and patted his shoulder again, squeezing it in a friendly way; "Emotionally, you both need to heel but in time you will feel better. I promise you." The teacher stared into the man's eyes for a little longer but eventually let out a deep breath and agreed that it would just take time for them to go back to normal.

A short while later Will joined his students – minus Rachel, who had been instructed to go home and rest – on the stage and listened as they were told they had come in fifth place, purely because they didn't manage to produce a solo. All of their jaws dropped and anger was filled within them all. Finn and Puck leeched forward in an attempt to strangle to producer of the show; outraged at how unfair that was. Santana was held back by Brittany as she also tried to tell them just how unfair it was that they were put in last place. Will stepped up to the man and tried to reason with him. Shrugging his shoulders, the announcer told him that it was in the rules; they had to have performed their solo otherwise they were disqualified or put in last place. All of the New Directions then tried to protest, saying that there had to have been special circumstances: their lead singer had a panic attack! Surely they were allowed to overlook that? But with all their protesting and anguish, it was announced and final: New Directions were in fifth and last place and out of the competition. Still with their jaws dropped – and some with tears in their eyes – they left the stage, shaking their head and mumbling of how unfair it was. Will was heartbroken, just as much as the kids, and couldn't find the words to give them a pep talk.

Back in the green room, they all vented at how annoyingly unfair and disgusting it was that they were out of the competition purely because Rachel had had a panic attack. They all went home that evening pale and confused. Sick with annoyance and crying with the injustice they were served with. When Rachel heard what had happened from Quinn later that night, she sobbed all over again. Filled with guilt and sadness over letting her team down. It took both her dad and daddy to calm her down as she bawled at how disappointed her team must have felt. She fell asleep with a pounding headache but a worse ache in her heart: all because of the rightfully named cowards, who had somehow stolen her confidence and her voice.


	9. Chapter Nine: Nightmares

**Chapter Nine:**

**Nightmares**

_Hot breath forced itself onto her goose-bump dotted neck. Her back and legs were pressed into the wall. Something was digging into her stomach. A strong force was pushing itself onto her front. Wet lips were running themselves along her neck and her breasts were being squeezed; groped. A whimper would escape from her own lips, but no other sound would come from her. Inside her shoes she could feel her toes wiggling. Her feet were trying to get free. Her arms would push against the wall, trying to elevate herself. But she couldn't move. She was stuck frozen and left to the mercy of what was happening. _

_Then she was thrown. Flung like a piece of corn from a tractor. A thud was echoed and her whole body was smashed into the floor. Before she had time to react, her head was suddenly straining against a harsh pull. Her hair was in a tight grip and her neck was being strained. Now she was being dragged like a mop across the floor to a new position. She was thrown on the floor again and again. Dragged and pushed into the ground repeatedly. _

_All she could see was colour. Orange. Red. Black. Slithers of yellow. All she could feel was pain. All the sounds were muffled, if there even were sounds at all. Yes! Yes there were sounds; grunts and moans. Muffled breaths and then screams. She heard herself scream and felt herself be pounded. Was she still on the floor or was she back against the wall? Bruises were forming on her body. Bones were being battered and skin discoloured. Her head was throbbing and her eyes were watering. Tears were making their way down her cheeks but she could feel something else trickling down her body. Blood. It had to be blood. Or urine? Had she wet herself out of fear? No. It felt too sticky to for it to be anything other than blood. She could feel it but could do nothing to stop it. _

_The pounding was happening again but this time she could feel it all over her body. She was being pushed and pulled against the floor. Hands were running up and along her legs. Her stomach was clenching and churning. Her face was squeezed and her lips puckered. Then a mouth was brought to her and her lips were taken between their chomping teeth. Her arms were held down as were her legs. She couldn't move. They were spread and weight settled on top of her. The pounding was there again but this time it was between her legs. She felt something enter her and the pain ripped through her. _

_Opened mouth, jaw stretching as wide as it could go, but no sound. A scream was desperate but all that came was a whisper. _

Gasping for breath and whispering out "No!" Rachel would wake up from her slumber and thank God that she was still alive. Clutching parts of her body and checking she was okay. Feeling the sweat all over her and rubbing away the pain she had felt in the dream. Frantically checking her body for the bruises and making sure the pain had gone, as well as making sure whoever was hurting her had also vanished back into the night. And then, she would wonder just what had happened.

That's how she woke up most mornings now.

Eyes snapping open, staring around the dark grey room and wondering what just happened; whether it was real or not. And how could it _not_ be real when it felt so real? Hands gripping onto the sheets and staying as still as possible; because everyone knew that if you stayed still then the bad people and monsters trying to get you couldn't see you and you would be okay. Her chest would rise and fall dramatically and painfully with each exaggerated breath she took. The thumping she had felt between her legs was no longer there. The pain she had felt on her body was mere hums and soon it was gone. Soon they would fade to shudders and tremors and eventually, she would be able to breathe normally again. Taking a deep sigh, Rachel would close her eyes and lick her lips, turning over and reaching for her glass of water. Sitting up, sighing again, she'd put the cold glass to her lips and take small glugging sips of the warmish water and try to forget what she had just seen. Dreamt, what she had just _dreamt_.

Each time it happened, it appeared as if her nightmares were getting worse. More intense. More dramatic. More real. Sat up, she would feel the cold of the night shiver through her and her hand would press against her back. There she would feel the damp, sticky effect of her nightmare. Her body drenched in sweat. Her hand would run up her back to her neck and shoulders where she would collect more sweat. How could a person sweat so much whilst they were asleep? Whenever she would go on her exercise machine she would sweat – obviously – but when she awoke from one of these frightening nightmares, she would compare the amount of sweat she had produced to one of her morning workouts and just wonder how it was possible. Was it because she was moving a lot during her nightmare? Was it because she would tangle herself up in her bedclothes and make herself unnecessarily hot? Was it because, psychologically, she was running and working out so much in her dream that her body thought it was real? Whenever she woke up, it took her a moment or two to realise that it was all _just a dream_ and that it wasn't real. But what her dreams (nightmares) were showing her _was_ real. It was all real.

Finally her body was showing some sort of psychological damage. Finally her mind was catching up with the pain her body had felt. Finally she was really feeling the damaging effects of what had happened to her. The panic attack at regionals was just the beginning, she was sure of that. But mind over matter was real too, right? She could control this. She wasn't going to have panic attacks during the day. She was only going to carry on having _a few _nightmares. She wasn't going to let what happened to her affect her. Her nightmares were just her body's way of dealing with what had happened. After all, what her fathers, family and friends had told her, she had gone through something that was traumatic and scary. Obviously she was bond to have some sort of emotional, mental and psychological effect. The panic attack on stage, however, was a one off. It wouldn't happen again, she was sure of it. She may not be able to control her dreams/nightmares because she was asleep – unconscious and unresponsive and unable to stop or prevent what was happening within them – but she could control what she did during the day.

Mind over matter. In school she knew she was safe. She had protection. She had light. She had security. In her home she knew she was comfortable. She had her fathers and her room and security there too. At night, however, she was alone. In her dreams she only had herself. Her mind was so active at night her nightmares were going to go a little crazy and a little insane. But she wasn't. Nightmares were reflections of her day and thoughts and all other brain activity. If she was okay during the day then she would probably be okay at night. Mind over matter. She wouldn't allow these nightmares or what happened to her, and her teacher, affect her. She had to focus. Now that regionals had passed and their position in the show choir competition was over, she needed to get back to her reality. Senior year was important. She may not have been able to sing at Regionals, but she would sing again. Auditions for top music and performing arts schools were in a few months, spring time, so she had to practice and she had to focus. Exams were important too. She had to get her grades and she had to focus. Mind over matter. Put the past behind her and move on. Nightmares be damned!

Of course, that was the plan.

As of late, her plans were not running as smoothly as she wanted. But she would make sure this plan worked. The plan of 'keeping calm and carrying on' as the old British saying went was of primitive importance. School was important and her future depended on her sanity being intact. Not that people who had panic attacks and nightmares after these sorts of things were _crazy_ and _insane_. Of course not! But what would be silly and ridiculous would be allowing them to take over her. Mind over matter: the nightmares would stay a secret and a private matter and her school life would not be affected.

Except, of course it was.

No one could run a full day of school after having barely any sleep and be affected. Waking up in a cold sweat and panting like a dog in summer at night was one thing, doing it in the middle of class was something completely different. Her concentration was not as good as it used to be. Running on a mere few hours' sleep and still working out in the morning to keep up her fitness would tire anyone out. At first she would simply blink her eyes and shake her head, stretch her arms and roll her neck. Anything physical to keep her body awake so her mind could work. This process only worked for a week or so, as her nightmares continued and her concentration declined further. During math class one day, she didn't even feel herself put her head on her desk and close her eyes. They had been drooping and straining to stay open throughout the class, but soon enough they had to surrender. Not only the sleep that was crying out, but to the images that flashed before her.

Unknowingly to Rachel, she was having a physical nightmare. In her seat she twitched and her limbs fluttered. Her eyes flickered beneath her lids and soon enough she was mumbling. At first a few incoherent noises, but eventually, the whole class could hear her cry out; "No", "Stop", "Please" and eventually a gasping scream that alerted them all to her plight. Wandering over to see what was wrong, her math teacher was concerned. Rachel never fell asleep in class, but more so he was concerned that no students had ever reacted like this when they _had_ fallen asleep. Usually he slammed a heavy book or his fist next to the culprit's head, which usually startled them awake. But now he would have to tread lightly. H

"Miss Berry, are you all right?" Came the booming, yet concerned, voice. He asked as kindly as he could, but at the end of the day, he had to be wary. Maybe a strong voice would make her all right? Maybe all she needed was a verbal shaking to wake up? What he didn't expect was her reaction. Normally the students shot up in their seats, apologised and he went back to teaching. Not this time however.

Just like she did at home, her eyes snapped open and she took in her surroundings. Her heart was pounding beneath her sweater and her face was stuck to the page she had opened up to before falling asleep. At first her vision was a little hazy. Where was she? The bed she was lying on was not a bed, but her desk. She could see colours. Faces. She made out the faces and bodies of some of her classmates. In front of her, her teacher was looking down at her, his arms folded loosely. Then, once she realised what had happened, her body straightened itself up and she tried to blink herself awake.

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered, her eyebrows frowning and her throat gulping at something. She raised her head and looked at the teacher in front of her. His green eyes were staring at her as if she was some sort of mythical creature and he could hardly believe what he was seeing. Rachel could feel the sweat not only on her back and neck, but could actually _feel_ it coating her forehead and dripping down her face. Although she was suddenly freeing cold, her cheeks were burning hot, and as she tried to slow down her breathing, she could feel the thick pressure within her throat pushing against her in all directions. She could feel it rising within her and suddenly she stood up, letting her chair scratch against the floor in that ear drum bursting way. Her hand was curled up in a tight, yet somehow loose, fist and her dominant hand was pressed against her stomach. "I don't feel so well, may I be excused?" Her vision was blurring slightly, and her eyes were blinking wildly to clear it. Her teeth were trembling slightly, but that was from the speed in which she burbled her request. In a very unlike Rachel Berry way, however, she didn't wait for his reply as she suddenly picked up her feet and bolted from the classroom. Her fist moved from laying limp at her side to being pressed against her mouth as she ran and tried to find the nearest bathroom.

Rachel wasn't the only one having nightmares.

Will woke up in almost the exact same way as she did on an almost daily basis too. He would hear Rachel's screams and his shouts; his begs for them to be allowed to go free and to not be hurt any more. In his empty bed, he would thrash about in anger and shout into his pillows. Crying out; "Why won't this thing end?" Looking up at his ceiling he would bellow; "Why won't it all leave us alone?" He wasn't religious but he was a believer, and thumping his fists onto the mattress he would screech and groan; "Please God just make it all stop!" His sobs would fill the emptiness and the darkness. When his eyes were closed all he could see was Rachel's tear stain and pain filled face. In his dreams she was always pleading at him, begging him to make all the pain go away. A cackle from one of the men would ring in his ears and he would feel his body being battered. Waking up he would feel his legs shaking from the thumps and kicks he had received. Under his drenched t-shirt he would feel his ribs ache once again and the only way he could get away from his feelings was to walk around his apartment and talk to himself. Over and over again he would convince himself that Rachel was safe. Not far away from him, she was tucked up in bed with her fathers just down the hall. She was safe and he had to stop being so ridiculous.

During the day, he would send a quick thanks to the Almighty that he hadn't killed anyone with his poor driving skills. From having barely any sleep for two weeks, he feared he wouldn't be able to drive safely. Thankfully for him, he was somehow able to concentrate on the short journey it took him to get to and from work. It was a shame, however, that his concentration during his classes was not so successful. Not only was his concentration lacking, but his ability to teach and appear to be a normal human being. He would snap at his students due to his inability to shake off or drown in coffee his fatigue. He'd then slump at his desk and sigh heavily, trying to fight off the need, want and desire to fall asleep. It was a disgusting feeling; being so tired he was just functioning on autopilot. He was drinking coffee and energy drinks, eating cookies for lunch, just to give him small bursts of energy that, in the end, only really made him more irritable. Apart from the lack of sleep, the other thing that was constantly playing on his mind was Rachel.

Of course.

During school he would seek her out. He didn't know what it was exactly – probably his pathological need to make sure she was safe – but he had to know where she was. Sneakily, he had printed off a copy of her school schedule so he knew exactly where she was; or at least where she was meant to be. He waited outside of her classes when the final warning bell had rung and made sure she was in her seat. At lunch, he sought out to make sure she was in the cafeteria or the auditorium or wherever she was, making sure she was with her friends. In the halls when he would see her, he made sure he knew exactly which direction she was walking in and made sure she was surrounded by people who at least knew her so she didn't get surprised or hurt by someone. At the end of the day, he would make sure she was in her car or picked up by her fathers. Once she was off school grounds, he could sigh with relief for a brief moment and then remember that her safety was completely out of his hands now. With all of his checking to make sure she was safe and okay, he was running late to most – if not all – of his classes. What he was doing was probably classed as stalking but he didn't care. As long as she was okay, he didn't care how it looked. In his mind, he had to make sure she was okay.

It was impossible to switch his thoughts off and away from Rachel's safety and protection. Just like on the night of their attack, he still felt it was his duty to make sure she was okay. If anyone harmed her in anyway; be it a jock knocking into her, a freshman stumbling into her or her just running into someone herself, he would be angry and frustrated that he didn't stop it. He had to stop her from being hurt. He hated the comparison when he thought about it, but like a superhero he had to prevent her from coming into harm. He wasn't able to stop the horrible things happening to her before but he would now. If he was called a stalker or a creep for simply making sure she was all right, then he would take that label. All he cared about was her safety.

That wasn't how he found her. This need to make sure she was okay wasn't the reason he was out in the halls. In fact he had a free period and was on his way to the photocopier room to make copies of an exercise he wanted his freshman class to do. It was a mundane task but he had to do it. Most of the time the photocopier didn't work and that meant he had to waste ink by printing out the copies himself, other times it was just slow. This day, however, something caught his eye. It was an unmistakable image of Rachel rushing from her classroom and heading for somewhere. He whispered her name to himself, making sure it was her, before charging after her, calling after her. She didn't hear him or she was ignoring him, because she just carried on running. Her wobbling legs carried her all the way to the other side of the hallway and found a bathroom. She pushed it open and ran inside.

Halting in front of the girl's bathroom, Will had a second to debate what to do. He didn't like her running. He didn't like the way she looked; frightened and hunched over. He didn't know what that meant, but all he knew was he didn't like it. Not caring if anyone saw him, Will pushed open the door and went inside calling for Rachel. All the doors of the stalls were open, all except the first which meant he was in there. Just as he was about to call out her name again, he heard her retch and cough and before he knew it, something – most likely vomit – was pouring into the bowl. It sounded painful and gross, but was worse was what came afterwards. Inside the bathroom, he heard the loud and echoing sounds of her not only crying but wheezing and panting. It was high pitched and strained and Will knew once again what was wrong. He was sure Rachel was having a panic attack and he wasted no time in throwing his work to the ground and pounding on the door.

"Rachel!" He cried out, "Rachel it's me, Will. Mr Schuster. Please open the door." But she didn't budge. At least the door didn't. All he heard was her breath hitch a little more and a small cry. He asked her, more frantically this time, to open the door. Again, he just heard her choke on her sobs and painfully suck in air. Frowning in frustration, Will looked under the stall and saw that there was no way he would be able to crawl under it or get her to crawl either. Then he looked up and saw that he would probably be able to climb over it. Pushing open the stall door next to her, he judged how he was able to do this. He then stepped onto the toilet and hoisted himself up to look over the top. From a bird's eye view, he could see Rachel cowering on the floor; shaking and rocking back and forth. Her chest was heaving in the same way it had at the competition and her eyes were full of the same blinding fear. Then, he looked in the direction of the toilet. It would easy for him to climb over and at that point, he didn't even care if he landed in the vomit filled bowl. All his concern was focused on was Rachel. He had to get her out of the cubicle and he had to get her to calm down.

Knowing he probably should warn her before climbing over, even if she wasn't totally able to respond, Will told her exactly what he was going to do. He told her not to be startled and to just keep breathing. Then, he braced himself for his jump and landing. Pulling himself up like a workout, he then hoisted himself up and threw his dominant leg over the side. His ribs were crying out and burning, still a little sore from all the beating. In his mind, he chuckled to himself, saying that they were not going to like this. He didn't care of course, even though he was cursing and screaming inside his head. If he was totally heeled, this wouldn't have hurt at all. But his whole torso was being stretched and felt like it was being crushed at the same time. Still, he didn't care. Within seconds, he made his slightly painful fall and landing. Amazingly he hadn't slipped and gone in the bowl. He didn't stick around long enough to celebrate that though, because within nanoseconds, he was crouching on the floor in front of Rachel, hands on her trembling shoulders and coaching her through her breathing.

"It's okay Rachel," he whispered, trying to get her to mimic his breaths. "You're okay, you're safe and you're okay. Look at me," he instructed, still with a calm voice and steady, light tone. Slowly, Rachel's eyes came into focus and she dragged them up to see his. Dark brown focused on light, almost green, brown eyes and together they breathed through the panic attack. Soon Rachel's trembles faded and her sobs to whimpers and her whimpers to small cries. Like a little child, she collapsed into his chest and gripped onto his shirt with all the minimal strength she had. Most of it had evaporated and had been used up to stop herself from passing out from being unable to breathe. For a moment she didn't care that her breath probably stank from the vomit she had just produced. She was sure he didn't care either. His strong arms wrapped around her back and his friendly hand stroked her hair, his voice calmly shushing her and getting her to calm down. She still shuddered slightly, but that was more from exhaustion than anything else. Within fifteen minutes, Rachel was completely drained and exhausted, but her panic attack had stopped and she was okay once again.

Pulling back from his comforting embrace, Rachel looked into his eyes but she wiped her hand across her mouth out of embarrassment. Before she had a chance to apologise, Will took hold of her warm, flushed cheeks in his contrasting cool hands, thumb stroking away the tear drops, and he asked; "Are you okay now, Rachel?" Again his voice was a mere whisper, as if any volume louder than such would cause her to crack, crumble and break. Without saying anything, Rachel simply nodded her head and looked down at her lap. She felt ashamed and embarrassed. Ashamed for herself, that she wouldn't be able to keep her secret and that she wouldn't be able to keep her problems at home. Embarrassed because Mr Schuster had witnessed her vomiting and experiencing another panic attack. Shaking her head at herself, she sniffled and twitched her nose.

"Hey don't cry, Rachel, it's okay," Will told her, hushing her again. He gently removed his hand from her cheek and curled his finger, wiping away a fallen tear. Rachel simply shrugged her shoulders, unable to think of something to say. What could she say? She didn't know what to do or say, so staying quiet and keeping back any more tears was her only option. She had been terrified. Being sick wasn't the nicest experience, but then to almost choke on your own tears and being unable to breathe? That was terrifying. As she stared at nothing and just allowed her panic attack to take over, she really thought she was going to die. And all she could think of during her moment of doom, were her fathers: how more than devastated they would be to get the phone call, to say that their baby girl had choked and died inside a bathroom stall. If it wasn't for Mr Schuster again, she wouldn't know what could have happened. Being unable to support herself any longer, she flopped onto him and admitted defeat. "Mr Schue," in a tiny, timid voice, Rachel whispered, licking her dry lips momentarily before continuing, "Would it be possible for you to take me home? I-I know I could just have a candy bar or something to wake me up, but I'm exhausted and-"

"Of course Rachel," he told her, stopping any sort of rant. "I'll take you home." He didn't want her to exhaust herself any more than necessary. Sure, it probably would only take her thirty minutes or so to feel herself again, but panic attacks took a lot out of a person and if she was already feeling sick, it was probably best she went home.

Gently and carefully, Will helped his student to her feet, stabling her to make sure she was okay and wasn't going to fall over. He then led her out of the bathroom – not flushing the chain and leaving his work behind, but making sure she washed her hands. Before taking her home, he picked up her things from the classroom she had fled and took her to the teachers' lounge. There, he got her a Styrofoam cup of tea and a candy bar; something to hydrate her, keep her warm and to get some sugar back into her system. She took them graciously but told him she could carry her own belongings. He wouldn't have it however, and carried her backpack and coat to the car. Carefully he made sure she was okay in the front seat, making sure she had her seatbelt on and covered her with her coat. Even though he was shattered and exhausted himself, he now had an important reason to stay awake. Lucky for him, however, he was running on the adrenaline that had just happened and the roads were almost completely clear, considering the schools had another two hours before they were let out.

Apart from the odd direction from Rachel – even though Will didn't need it – the car ride was almost completely silent. Will had remembered the route to her house and told her not to worry. She proceeded to call her fathers and informed them of what had happened. As expected, her daddy was full of worry and told her he was going to try and get home right away. Her dad was the same, but asked first if she was okay. In any case, he also said he was going to try and get off early. Due to all the time he had spent off looking after Rachel after her attack, Leroy had picked up extra shifts at the hospital to make up for it. That didn't mean he was always on the wards and doing rounds, as that would be dangerous, but he was still making up for his absence in any case. Hiram however had much more flexible hours in comparison and was probably being dramatic and yelling at his boss, threatening to quit or call some sort of discrimination and representative lawyer if he didn't allow him to go home and take of his sick princess again.

Even though Rachel said he didn't have to, Will offered to carry her things into the house and get her settled in the living room until her daddy arrived; again, he didn't want to leave her alone, even in her own home. Awkwardly, the two of them sat in the living room on separate couches and looked anywhere except at each other. For a while, Rachel and Will both just sat in the silence, thinking of their own thoughts. Rachel had finished her tea and candy bar in the car and now she felt obliged to offer him some food and a beverage too. Politely he had refused, and they sat again in silence. Raising his head, Will looked at Rachel and tried to read her thoughts but he found her face to be a lot more interesting. It was clear that she was exhausted. Her colour had come back into her cheeks, but under her eyes were thick, puffy purple bags.

"You haven't been sleeping have you?" Blurting out his question, Will felt he had to ask. If she hadn't been sleeping either, then maybe they could finally battle these demons. They could face them together, maybe? Hearing his question and slightly accusatory tone, Rachel snapped her eyes up to look at him. She stared at his face and the same, almost reflected look. His eyes were dark and his skin had a greyish touch to it. Quirking her lip slightly, Rachel fired the question back. "You haven't been sleeping either." Instead of a verbal answer, she listened and watched as her teacher sighed and nodded his head. Bringing his hand up, Will almost moaned out a reply. "I just can't sleep," he confessed, and then frowned slightly as he felt he had to tell the entire truth. "Actually no, I can. I can sleep. I can fall asleep pretty easily it's just-"

"You wake up?" Rachel asked, her voice slightly lighter than before; sounding as if she had stumbled upon a mysterious answer. "Do you wake up in a cold sweat? Panting and looking around the room as if someone was chasing you? Looking around and just trying to convince yourself that what you just saw and heard in your dream wasn't-"

"Real." Will finished her sentence with a sigh, and the two of them just looked at each other. They had yet another common ground. Not only had they both gone through something scary and traumatic, they were have the same (or at least similar) after effects.

Looking across the room from each other, they somehow cracked small smiles. For some reason it felt good, to be able to share what they were feeling. It felt good the other to know that they weren't suffering alone; what they were feeling was shared and mirrored. This must mean they were normal. It must be normal to react and behave in this way and a weight was suddenly lifted from both their shoulders. Will ran his hand through his hair before asking another question. They had to keep talking. They had to keep sharing how and what they were feeling. Considering they couldn't talk to anyone else, it seemed, they had to talk to each other. "How have you been feeling since it all?" He asked, wondering just how she had been coping. It had been a little while since Regionals and as far as he was aware she was okay. This second panic attack – which he knew of, at least – was probably a sign that she wasn't as okay as he thought she was. Rachel was quiet for a moment, thinking of her answer. Then she sat up and pulled the blanket she had wrapped around her shoulders a little tighter. "I've been fine," she answered with a shake of her head, "In fact it's only been these last few weeks where I've not been completely fine." Leaning forward in his seat, Will asked her explain herself further. "It's only these nightmares. I keep getting nightmares and they've been driving me crazy. I thought if I could just keep them nightmares and not 'during-the-day-mares' then I'd be okay but," she shrugged her shoulders, looking down at the ground for a moment. "It looks like I can't do that anymore."

Nodding his head Will said he completely understood and rested his hands on his knees as he spoke. "I know what you mean. At night, it feels like it's acceptable. It's okay to have nightmares and to allow all your collected thoughts spill out in the forms of dreams at the end of the day but…but I feel like I should be able to control myself." His eyes flickered to Rachel's to make sure she understood, but her sympathetic eyes and nodding head told him she understood exactly what he meant. "I get what you mean," she told him with a small sigh. "During the day you should be able to control yourself but at night…you have no control over your subconscious."

"Or your emotions," Will added. "Sometimes I get so angry. At everyone! I lash out at students if they ask a question, and I bite other teachers' heads off in the lounge. Heck, I even give in to road rage! When I'm not so tired at least."

"I feel like I'm tired all the time," Rachel confessed. "I can't get a good night sleep because of the dreams and I can't stay awake at school even though I know I have to."

"For me its protection," Will confessed kind of quietly and Rachel cocked her head in confusion. Will shuffled himself towards the edge of his seat for a final time as he explained. "I feel like I have to constantly protect you."

"Protect me?"

"Yeah Rachel, I have to. I have to know you're safe. I have to know that you're okay all of the time. When I wake up from my dreams, I just want to drive over here and, and…as creepy as it sounds, I just want to watch you sleep just to know that you're in bed, safe." He blushed, knowing how inappropriate he sounded. But Rachel didn't mind. She understood what he meant and gestured for him to carry on. "I didn't protect you enough during the attack. I know you'll disagree, but I really just…I don't know."

"You feel like you need to make up for it," Rachel concluded and watched as Will nodded his head.

For a few minutes the two of them resorted to their silence. They had both expressed their worries and concerns and now they felt relieved that they were able to confide in each other. In those few minutes they both felt somehow calmer then they had done since regionals. Then, like a snap, Rachel jumped up and walked over to where Will was sitting and sat next to him. She then took hold of his hand and made him look at her. "Mr Schuster, I think we should make a pact." Will narrowed his eyebrows slightly unsure of what she was meaning, so she continued. "I think we should make it so we always talk to each other. Clearly we can't go on with keeping everything bottled up inside of us. We need to keep talking to each other. It's the only way we'll be able to get through this." With each sentence she spoke, she squeezed his hand and by the end of the little speech, besides giving her his cell phone number in case she ever needed to contact him, he only had one thing to say: "Call me Will."


	10. Chapter Ten: Guilty Sickness

**Chapter Ten:**

**Guilty Sickness**

Some promises are easier to keep than others.

Some secrets are easier to keep than others.

Some friends are easier to hide from than others.

Although both Will and Rachel had promised to tell each other whenever something was wrong, they weren't quite keeping to that promise they had laid down in their pact. Both were keeping some of their emotions hidden and their true feelings buried within them.

A week after Will had caught Rachel vomiting and having a panic attack in the bathroom at school, Will had received a letter from the School Show Choir Committee saying that they felt the New Directions had been treated unfairly, especially after the number of complaints they had received when their soloist (Rachel) hadn't been allowed to start over or the whole club not being allowed to elect a new member to sing the song. As a result, the club were allowed to perform all their songs again and be allowed a second chance at possibly making it through to the next round of the competition. Where on the one hand, the club were thrilled with the news and couldn't to start rehearsing again, Will was not so thrilled with the news. And Rachel wasn't fairing up as much either; however that was more down to illness than the actual prospect of singing.

Since she had been caught be Will and making their pact in her home, Rachel could not shake her sudden onslaught of sickness. The nightmares were still present, as she thought they would be, but what surprised her was that she just could not fathom why she was feeling so sick some of the time. As soon as she woke up from her nightmares, she would gulp down her water and get to the bathroom just in time to vomit it up. Closing her eyes, squeezing them shut, and resting her forehead on her hand, perched on the edge of the bowl; she would shudder with each breath and beg for the sickness to pass. All the while trying to calm herself down from the aftermath and the after effects of the nightmare. It seemed like some nights they were getting worse; more vivid with each sleep she tried to have. She would only be sick once, either from getting up after a nightmare or just as she was getting ready for school. Each morning she would practice her breathing techniques that she used for the stage and tried to clear her head. Each day was a new one and every day she would try to not let the nightmares get her down.

With the recent news that they were being given a second chance at getting into the next round of the Show Choir Competition, the pressure had been piling up. Not that she wasn't used to the pressure. With every song she sung she imagined it was her last – and with her Regionals Panic Attack, as she referred to it as, she was making sure every song counted. In the choir room one afternoon, Will showed his true colours. Not only was he stressed out with guilt still (a seemingly never ending feeling) but he was stressing out over the fact he was trying to keep all of his emotions intact. He couldn't allow anyone to think anything was wrong, but with all the building pressure of work and coaching the club for their second chance, there was only just so much he could take. The club had been doing so well, but that just wasn't enough for him. They all knew that the real reason why they had lost out in the first place was because of Rachel's panic attack and this was what was _really_ worrying him. He didn't want to put her through that again, but on the hand he had to. It was all just so confusing.

With the kids having performed for the third time that afternoon, they were all getting pretty fed up. They knew their routine from every possible angle. They could have all swapped parts and wouldn't have had any problems. Puck even joked to Blaine that they could have done the whole routine backwards and still wouldn't have had a problem. On the actual night of the regionals completion, they had to substitute Rachel's part, but with her in it now while they rehearsed, they still had no problems at all. It looked even better then when they had first performed it now they had Rachel. There was no way they could perform it any better, and yet Mr Schuster was pushing them to their limits. Santana, however, felt she was far too pushed and was trying to keep calm. What set her off, however, what when she heard Brittany whisper as quietly as she could to Mike that her ankle felt a little weird. She was almost a professional dancer, and to make her hurt was a difficult, if not _impossible_ task to achieve. To hear her best friend complain even in the slightest caused Santana to explode at their teacher. Her 'danger character' Snix, she had called it, suddenly took control and the Latina shouted; "Can't we take a break and get Streisand Wannabe to sing her damn solo now?" She then looked around at her equally tired team mates and friends and then back to her teacher. "She's the whole reason why we lost and why we're busting our asses off right now!"

Having been walking around the choir room, scrutinising and analysing every move and note each student made, Will was almost equally tired. The stress was showing clearly on his face as well as the exhaustion of still not being able to sleep. His five o'clock shadow was clouding his face, along with the thick bags under his bloodshot eyes and as he listened to Santana's outburst, he slowly raised his head and tried to control the twitching of his upper lip. Santana had always been a handful and a challenge. She often got into fights with everyone; par Brittany, over the smallest of things. Shouting matches between her and Mercedes were almost as common as rain in England. Will sometimes wished he didn't know as much Spanish as he did when her insults became far too expletive for school, when she got really heated. If she was cursing people with the English translation she would probably have been suspended and expelled!

Shrugging her shoulders and rolling her neck, Santana began with her speech, starting off cool and steady: a regular Santana Lopez 'opinion' before letting Snix loose and 'going all Lima Heights' on them. Her 'gangsta' attitude would have been prefect and convincing, if it weren't for well-known fact she lived in a rather affluent part of the town. "All I'm saying is she is the one that's making us perform this whole routine again! Why can't she just go to the judges and sing for them to make us get through? I mean, we all know she'd love that: have three judges alone in the auditorium with her, all eyes and attention focused just on her so she can belt out yet another solo. Why do-"

"Santana knock it off!" Will raised his voice, not shouting but trying to get himself heard above her ranting, exhaustion sounding through his voice and built up frustration pounding and echoing around the room. Bouncing off the walls with each syllable. Where the other kids could see that the man was angry and just wanted Santana to be quiet, the Latina felt this was a challenge.

Flicking her hair back, she folded her arms across her red and white, school logo emblazed Cheerio uniform and stared at the man; challenging him. After all of her feuds she had ever had, she knew exactly which buttons to press on people. She had never really tried it with her Spanish/Show Choir teacher, but from looking at him she knew how to make him crack. Really, she didn't know what this little outburst was really all about. At first, she was just tired and wanted a break, but like a lot of her tongue lashes, she just wanted a rant to see how far she could push someone before they snapped. "Look I know that she's been through a lot, heck I actually think you were the one who went through enough torture; being stuck with her in that closet all night-"

"Santana," Finn breathed out, trying to get her to stop, but she simply carried on talking as if he hadn't said anything. "But really, she didn't need go all diva on us and have some weird meltdown-"

"It wasn't a meltdown, Santana, it was a panic attack," Quinn growled, but too tired to really give it much force. Again, Santana ignored her friend and carried on speaking.

This time she began walking towards her sitting teacher. Her eyes were still locked on his and she could see his lip fighting against his muscles; desperately trying not to curl. For a moment he looked a little scary. She had seen him tired before but never like this. Around her, she could feel her friends and teammates begin to regain some of their energy and watch as she battered him with more. "Why should be singing and dancing and working out like a Cheerio's Summer Camp when really Rachel should be doing all the hard work. It is, as I have previously pointed out several times, her fault that we're in this mess. If she really wants to prove to everyone just how good she is then I say we just stick on that stage and shout songs at her to perform. If she is so brilliant and wonderful then she should be able to win us the whole thing without us needing to perform."

"Santana that's ridiculous," Sam called out, trying to get her to calm down. Santana couldn't see it, as she was trapped in her own little world, but Will had curled his fist and was now tapping his leg to a rhythm only he knew, trying to calm himself. "I'm not being ridiculous, Trouty Mouth," she retorted back, referring to Sam's lips that she thoughts were too big for his face. She then whipped her head – and tight pony tail – back to her teacher. "It is all Rachel's fault," now with every emphasised point she pounded her fist into her palm and took a step forward. "She should be put on that stage, slap bang in the centre and sing and sing and sing until we all have our first place trophy and confirmation that we made it through to the next round. She should have been able to sing the damn song and got us through. Was it really that hard? Was it really that hard for you little starlet to do that and not mess up?"

"She didn't mess up!" Standing up and knocking his flimsy chair, Will bellowed and got himself right up in Santana's face. "She didn't mess up. She tried and tried but sometimes there are just some things too terrifying to do and she was scared. Her panic attack was her cry for help and her warning that she was too scared to go up there and sing-"

"But if she's so perfect she would have been able to do it?" Santana retorted back, knowing she had him right where she wanted him. "She is perfect," Will snarled, staring right into Santana's deep brown, chocolate eyes. "She is perfect but she was scared and…and…" Blinking, he then pulled himself back and walked round to the piano.

The whole room now fixated their attention on their teacher as he mumbled to himself. Clearly, during Santana's speech he had some form of epiphany or idea. Or scary thought. Hunched over the piano he tried to take deep, calming breaths. Santana slid back to Brittany, who wrapped her arm lightly around her waist, and joined in with watching her teacher think. She frowned as she watched him pace. Her pushing usually only took teachers so far. She never expected him to back down like that. Usually they yelled at her or sent her out. Either way, she still always felt like she had the upper hand. Now, however, there was no satisfactory moment. She didn't know if she's won this match or if it was paused. Never did she lose a match, but this may the first. Carefully she took hold of her best friend's hand and felt the blonde stroke her hand softly; she didn't approve of her Latina best friend's shouting and button pushing. Even though she didn't speak a lot of Spanish, she did know what some of the curses meant and they sometimes made her blush with embarrassment or frown with disappointment at Santana's colourful words. For now though all that was needed was a slightly firm squeeze of her hand and to watch what would happen next.

The curly haired teacher now pushed himself off from his lying position and stared straight at Rachel. Throughout Santana's ranting monologue, the brunette had sunken into herself and tried to hide behind Quinn. Everything Santana had said was true. It was all her fault that they lost at Regionals and that they had been given this chance to try again. She felt that it was all on her shoulders. Her friends and teammates didn't deserve to be put through this boot camp style rehearsal again. Before it was fun and everyone felt energised to do it. Now it felt like a chore. Where you would think they were ecstatic about being given the chance to perform again but after only two intense rehearsals, everyone really did look and feel like dying. Rachel felt that it was all on her shoulders. If they lost the chance because of her, then she would feel even worse than she already did. Throughout the rehearsal, she felt her sickness and stress rise again. She watched as Santana tried to break their teacher for what reason, she didn't know and she felt the bile rise within her throat. For a second, she thought Santana was going to be able to break him and make him agree with her. But he didn't. The more Santana spoke, the more he disagreed with her and when he finally barked at her, Rachel's stomach settled momentarily.

However, now he looked straight at her and the sickness rose again. She stared into his eyes and he into hers. The tension in the room had shifted from that of Santana's probing to that of only the two of them understood. The way Will looked at her could have made her cry there and then. Whatever he was about to say wasn't going to be good. Raising himself completely off the piano, Will sighed and shook his head at her; "I don't want to put her out there." Even though he didn't address her, Rachel knew he was meaning to speak just to her and she felt suddenly livid. Her eyes widened and her whole body straightened like a spring being let loose. Everyone in the room had the expression of 'what the heck' and suddenly the room was abrupt with protests. "What do you mean you don't want her out there?" "You mean you want us to give up?" "No way! We don't give up!" "She's gotta sing the solo otherwise what's the point?" "I told you, Rachel's changed. There's no use!" "She has to go out there Mr Schue!" "We'll win if Rachel sings!" Amidst the chaos of protests – where all the teenagers had their energy magically restored – Rachel walked away from Quinn and made her way to the centre of the room where Will joined her.

Looking up into his eyes she pleaded with him and then began to beg; "Please, Mr Schue-"

"No, Rachel, I won't risk it." He told her, gazing down into her innocent eyes. He shook his head and inhaled deeply through his nose. "I won't risk _you_." He said slightly quieter. The room had been reduced to almost silence once more and now they felt like they were the only two people in the room. Just like on the night of the incident, they were the only ones in the choir room and they were the only ones that were important at that time. Deflated emotionally but not physically, Rachel pumped herself up and tried to match his height. Widening her eyes at him, as if the truth was written in them, she firmly told him and tried to force him to believe her; "I can do it." But Will was still adamant that he wouldn't risk her health. He didn't want to see her hurt again. "No you can't." He told her, in a tone that was dripped in finality. Rachel, of course, being as stubborn as she was, was not going to back down without a fight. "Yes I can!" She declared, "I promise you!"

"Rachel please I don't want you hurt again!" Will raised his voice but Rachel scoffed and shook her head, placing one hand on her hip. "I'm not a China doll or a piece of glass. I'm not going to break and I'm not some teddy bear that's ripped and falling apart with all my stuffing pouring from me!" Her voice rose with each metaphor but Will was still refusing to listen to her. The two of them were face to face, but Will turned away from her and like a bolting flash of diva lightening, Rachel grabbed hold of his arm and brought herself up to his height.

A gasping breath was heard behind her, probably from Tina and Mercedes, but she didn't care. She and Will were still the only two people in the world and she would make him understand. Whatever had happened before, she wanted to put in the past and he was holding her back. Staring dead straight into his green/hazel eyes that had darkened dramatically, Rachel took one last stab at convincing him. In a quiet but strong voice Rachel begged one last time. "Please Will," she whispered and then raised her voice so the whole room could hear, "Please let me sing. Singing for myself is one thing, but singing for my team is better. These guys have worked so hard and I want to do this. I need you to trust me that I can do this. I need your trust," Hearing she needed him, needed him to trust and believe her touched his heart and he felt the tears prickle behind his eyes. Then, biting her lip slightly, Rachel closed the deal: "Please, I can do this. I won't break; I promise." For a moment that felt like hours, Will gazed into the young woman's eyes and he had to pinch himself again to really make himself believe she was only seventeen years old. She had so much loyalty and passion within her that he had to admire her greatly, even if he was terrified for her.

Having realised what he had to do, Will closed his eyes and released a deep breath, again through his nose. "Okay," he whispered to Rachel and then he allowed her to remove her hand off his arm. Turning to face his students, first looking at a bold but slightly sheepish Santana, Will nodded his head. "Guys, Rachel will sing the solo and…and I guess we'll be done here for tonight. All of you go home and Rachel will work on her solo." He looked at her for a moment, watching her smile softly and gratefully at him, before turning back to his other students. "You guys really have worked so hard and…and Rachel's right. Santana's right too, you all need a break and so Rachel will work hard on her solo too." The air was still a little sombre, but after a small beat there was a small round of teenage applause lead by Puck and all of them collected their things and left. As Rachel was leaving, however, Will took hold of her elbow and brought her into his chest. He breathed in her warmth and courage and whispered; "I know you'll be great," he squeezed before letting her go and said; "I trust you." The two smiled at each other and parted to rest.

After Will's blow up in the choir room, Rachel had made it her mission to prove to him that she could sing the solo again without any problems. Singing was her life. She needed to sing like she needed to breathe and once again she wasn't going to let anything happen or ruin their chances. It was unheard of that teams were allowed 'redos' and she felt she had to be more than perfect. Now she had Will's trust in her, she had to prove to him that she could handle the added pressure this performance would bring to her. It was one thing to have the support and trust of her fellow Glee Club members – a difficult task in itself, thanks to Santana's challenging outburst – but it was an entirely different battle to get his trust. Even though they may have had their ups and downs in the past, as two artistic people, she thought they now understood each other. It seemed as if her panic attack had broken that trust and reliability. Will was scared for her, but he had to know and understand that she could do it. She was more than able to sing this solo and get them their rightful, deserved place in the next stage of the completion. After leaving the rehearsal, she was convinced she wouldn't let anyone – herself, Will and the whole Glee Club – down.

Of course, as the way her luck was going, the more she worked herself the more stressed she got. Her vomiting wasn't increasing with intensity, but it was becoming more frequent. Her appetite was near enough gone and her nerves were all over the place thanks to the vivid nightmares she was still having. Yet still she refused to tell Will or her fathers what was wrong. Telling her fathers was a definite no go zone. Where she had previously been able to tell them anything – from day to day thoughts 'Rachel Berry philosophising' to her crushes on celebrities and boys at school – she now felt she couldn't tell them anything. At the dinner table and they would ask her how her day was, she was caught between telling them the truth and just continuing with her lie. The true being that she still couldn't pay complete attention in classes due to her night time interruptions and that she was just praying her grades wouldn't be affected, resulting in a phone call or a letter being sent to them. Instead she would smile at both her parents and try to recall what events happened during the day;

"Oh well, there was a very interesting lecture about evolution in biology class."

"Well dad, I actually had to put my foot down during yet another debate on legalising same-sex marriage and was close to being sent out of the classroom because of how strong my argument and temper was."

"Uncharacteristically of me, I forgot to mention there might be a bake sale to raise money for a charity. Finally the school is taking into account the great work PETA do to help animals and I'll be, of course, baking some fabulous cakes to sell."

In reality, most of what she told her fathers was just things she either made up or half heard about from her friends at the lunch table. Yes, there was a lecture in her biology class on evolution, but it wasn't interesting. In fact, it was a two minute presentation by the teacher before they moved on to the formation of cells. The debate about same-sex marriage was not as heated as Rachel had made out. Really, it was just a discussion she overheard from the 'wannabe politicians' whilst making her way to class and it was quickly brought to an end by them shrugging their shoulders with a casual "Yeah sure, why not?" and moving on to the topic of terrorism, yet again. The charity bake sale was actually something the Cheerios were planning, as informed to her by Quinn, Santana and Brittany at the lunch table. As expected, it wasn't for PETA or in aide of raising money for animals or the people who rescue them. It was for the Cheerios so they could get more publicity. Even though they had most of the school's extracurricular activity budget, Coach Sue Sylvester still wanted more. But her fathers didn't need to know that. Their daughter was clever by the way she would deliver her lie and then move on the conversation to talk about them.

In Glee Club, she was trying to keep a brave face on as well. She would join in with the group numbers and the occasional 'jamming' session they would have at the beginning and end of the session for blowing off steam and having fun. She would stand in front of them and perform her solo and take in the embracing applause. During her private rehearsals, however, the ones at lunch or in her free period the bravery and confidence was made out to be a complete lie; just as convincing as the ones she told to her parents. It was during one of these private rehearsals that Will discovered her lies. So far he had been proudly impressed by her ability to perform so well in front of the club. As he watched her sing her huge heart out, he was convinced just as much as everyone else that she would be able to secure them a place in the next round and that they all had nothing to worry about. This all just proved what a great actress Rachel really was. He hadn't noticed anything odd or different about her performing; until he saw her at lunch.

For Rachel her safety had become a prime importance. Previously she hadn't have minded if someone had come in to listen to or watched her perform. Sometimes she welcomed it or told them to just kindly not disturb her. It wasn't often that general members of the school did watch her; a quick glance and an eye roll was what the majority did. Usually a member of the Glee Club would come in and say how great she was and then they'd leave her to it. Now, however, she made sure both doors were locked with the blinds open so she could see if anyone was coming close to the room, the window was tightly secure and that she had her eyes and ears focused on anything that could be suspicious or out of the ordinary. There was always the possibility running through her mind that the men could come back and decide they wanted 'their turn'. It was what her dreams (nightmares) told her almost consistently every night and the fear was always with her. After all the possibility was real. The police hadn't informed her parents, Will or herself that they had been caught or even seen. She didn't know if they were actively being looked for or if any intense investigations were being made. All she knew was that she had to protect herself in case they were still hanging around, ready to make their next move.

Today's rehearsal was the same for one detail: Rachel wasn't completely alone, because whilst she sang her song, Will had come to the window and had watched Rachel's almost OCD like routine. She had locked the doors – the main and his office door – built a barrier of chairs near the securely locked window at the top of the choir room and made sure the music player was unplugged and off. She never sang with the music on now whilst in school during her private rehearsals. She had to listen out for intruders. Her voice was loud enough and it was hard enough listening to her voice without listening above and over a backing track as well. As she prepared to sing, once she had done her cut down scales and vocal warm ups, she noticed her hands began to shake. Thinking her body was warning her of something, she made sure to keep looking around her as she sang: she couldn't be too careful. She couldn't just not sing; that would look suspicious, so she had to circle the room and make sure no one was there. Checking once again that everything was as it should be, she opened her mouth and began to sing the first few lines of the song. Circling the room however, she felt her legs wobbly and her voice crack. Her voice was beginning to shake and the tears were burning her throat and eyes.

"Pull yourself together Rachel!" She scolded herself. "You're being stupid. Nothing is going to happen. You're in school…but in this room is where it all happened." Her feet must have subconsciously made her wander to the part of the room where she and Will were discussing whether or not to do as the men said, as she shot of nausea suddenly ran through her. "Stop it!" She cried out, gasping at the scream, tears flowing from her eyes and running down her smooth, pale cheeks as fast as they could. "It had to be done but it's not going to happen again!" Her hands covered her mouth as she tried to hold back the choking tears and screams that were threatening to spill out. Then as her eyes accidentally landed on the closet door, she coughed and pressed her palms to her mouth harder as she felt the vomit rise and splash out onto her trembling hands. Within seconds, crying out more and more, yet trying to stop the flow of sick that kept on coming up, Rachel ran to the trash can, crouched down and heaved and spilled as much as she could.

By the end of her five minutes of fright, she broke down, crying into the bucket like trash can and felt like an idiot. She couldn't believe she was being sick and crying over nothing. Nothing had happened. There were no sounds or flickers of movement. She just began trembling out of nowhere. She was allowing her mind to play tricks with her sense of logic and she was beyond annoyed that she was allowing this to happen during the day. "At night it's okay," her voice was broken and small as the tears began to stop. She sniffled and wiped her mouth and then her eyes. The smell was rancid and gross. Tying up the plastic bin bag she thought of where she could dump it all. Her best bet was to just hope no one was near the outside dumpsters. It was lunch time so no one would be around, but even so she was cautious not in case students saw her but if the men were there. As usual she always had to be on the lookout if her attackers were there. Peeking out behind the door of the choir room, Rachel saw the hall was clear and so she rushed to the outside of the school and dumbed the bag as quickly as she could. The dumpsters were in the school yard, but it was crowded with students and she thought she was safe. Using her acting skills, she made it look as if she was throwing out any old trash, because to everyone else that's exactly what she was doing; nothing suspicious at all. Just as she was walking back through the halls, the bell rang for class and the brunette wiped her slightly clammy forehead and sighed in some form of relief. At least attending her classes would distract her – as long as she didn't fall asleep in them, that is.

As Rachel was leaving the choir room, Will had been conveniently looking at a nearby bulletin board. He couldn't let her see him. She would know he had been spying on her and he couldn't let her think he didn't trust her. As ironically as that was, she obviously didn't trust him either. They had promised each other to talk about how they were feeling. It was clear to him that she was struggling, and he was more than frustrated that she just wouldn't talk to him. But then, he wasn't going to talk to her about his own feelings either. As he entered the choir room, he took his keys out of his pocket and unlocked his office door, ignoring all the shuddering memories that called out to him every time he entered the choir room.

Once inside, he closed the door and took two steps forward. He couldn't go any further however, as his anger boiled too high and his nostrils flared, eyes burned and his teeth and jaw began to chatter and quiver with rage. Pressing his hands to his face he opened his mouth as wide as it would go and yelled as loudly as he could. A deep roar ripped through him. His knees gave way slightly and his whole body began to shake. It was as if he was transforming into a werewolf and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Like a bull being teased and taunted for just a second too long, still growling and thundering, echoing around the small room like the boom of a cannon, Will charged forward to his desk and with one swipe of his hands, pushed everything off of the wood, sending it to the ground with a clatter. Still hollering and breathing as quickly yet as deeply as he could, he then went to the corner of the room and began ripping the leaves off the large plant that kept him company whilst he marked his papers, stomping on the thick trunk like stalk. Bending his knees and gripping his fingers around the pottery base he then hauled it as far as it would fly with a guttural bark. Soil was dusted on the floor and Will rumbled his vocal chords and screamed, wailing his arms around as he kicked every clod of the earth his feet could move. As well as soil, he trampled on the papers that had been thrown off his desk and then heaved himself again to topple the cabinet over. It crashed and clattered like boulders falling in an avalanche and he tossed them around the small enclosed space as well.

Finally, once he found there was nothing else to destroy, heaving his breaths in and out, in and out, Will raised his shaking hands to his face once more but this time allowed his knees to drop him all the way to the ground as his sobs filled the room. To no one but his own guilt and sadness, he cried; "Why is this happening? Why can she not do it anymore? Why have they taken her life away and plaguing mine with this awful guilt?" Covered in soil and hot tears dripping down his face, Will cried well until after the bell went. By the end of his free period, his office was still a disastrous mess, but he didn't care. All he cared about yet again was the fact that he and Rachel still weren't able to keep their promise and that the night when they were attacked had ruined their lives. Guilt meant he couldn't talk to her and pride meant she couldn't talk to him. He was never guilty and she was never full of pride. The attack had changed them and he hated it.

That night Rachel and her daddy were eating their salmon, waiting for Leroy to come home. He had called and said he was needed at the hospital for an extra shift due to one of his colleagues needing to tend an emergency. It was the same friend that helped him out when he heard of Rachel's attack, and so of course he would return the favour. At the dining table, therefore, Hiram decided to have some of his quality daddy/daughter conversation, starting with a shopping topic, considering that needed to be done. No matter how typically effeminate he was, it was always a subject he rather not talk about. Leroy hated to ask, as he was more masculine of the two, and so whenever Rachel's 'girl things' ever came up, Hiram had to be the one to see it through. It had been the same when getting her first bra to having 'the sex talk'.

Clearing his throat and sending Rachel a smile he began as quickly as he could; "I'm heading to the store tomorrow, is there anything you need?" It was the easiest way to ask. Being subtle and using little codes was always the way to do it, probably for any dad. Swallowing her piece of salmon and keeping her eyes on the plate, Rachel shook her head "No." Hiram frowned, trying to calculate the last time he needed use the subtleties. Thinking Rachel must have bought her 'products' herself, he just shrugged; "Oh right. As long as you're sure." His eyes flickered up to her and saw her chewing on her lip. He frowned again, seeing that this was her nervous expression. Putting his knife and fork down, he lowered his voice. "You know I don't mind getting them, Rachel," he smiled at her and spoke with a light laugh, "I've been buying them since you were…what…twelve or thirteen years old. I know it's probably easier for you to get them yourself but I'm going to the store so-"

"Actually daddy I don't need any right now." Rachel cut him off, her eyes flickering to his for a moment before she focused on the potato she was slicing into. "I haven't gotten it yet. I'm late actually." She then bit on her lip again and looked up at her daddy. "I've been really stressed out lately and my period hasn't come yet so I don't actually need any supplies yet." Her cheeks flushed brightly, realising that she may have made her daddy uncomfortable but then she remembered it was her _dad_ who was uncomfortable with women's 'things' and not her dad_dy_.

Across the table, leaning his hand across the top to hold onto Rachel's hand delicately but with a strong fatherly hold, Hiram smiled at her with soft eyes and shook his head. "Don't worry about it sweetheart. These things happen. You've been through a lot. Once the shock of everything completely dies down your body will start behaving again and go back to normal." Her then gave her a big smile and suggested that instead of womanly 'supplies' he buy her favourite ice cream and they eat it whilst watching a movie. His daughter mirrored his beam and they continued their dinner with much lighter conversation topics; actors and actresses, books, films and current affairs. The latter was usually something Rachel talked about with her dad, but it was always fun to educate her less serious father about things.

Although her daddy had told her that her body would return back to normal in regards to her period starting up again, as she lay in bed that night she couldn't help but whisper into the darkness; "I just hope _everything_ goes back to normal." Sighing and rolling onto her side, clutching her childhood favourite toy; "And hopefully soon." Biting her lip, she closed her as and held onto the purple monkey as tightly as she could, pressing it against her stomach to will any late night sickness or nightmares that could plague her whilst she slept. Across town, Will was not having the best night either but his night was more worrying and terrifying and less easy to be reassured. But Rachel slept peacefully, blissfully unaware of her teacher's torment.


	11. Chapter Eleven: It Hurts

**So sorry it's taken so long to upload this new chapter. It's been a busy summer - working, university reading and socialising - plus and insane amount of writer's block!**

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I think I may have rushed the final few chapter but I hope you all like it :)  
**

**Chapter Eleven:**

**It Hurts**

_Luscious lips caressed his own. Soft, wet, berry flavoured lips massaged and smacked against his with loud sexy pops. Elicited moans and tiny, warm grunts were shared between them. Massaged lips on lips and licking tongues against one another drew out fluttered feelings and gripping motions within them. He especially felt himself grow with desire and his teeth nipped at her plump bottom lip; nibbling it between his white front teeth and dragging the slippery lip into his warm, waiting mouth. Both his lips then fondled her lip, sucking and nipping it before releasing it when his ears heard the satisfied moan from her throat. Cracking his eyes slowly open he saw the shining lip wink at him, before he pressed his hungry mouth back to hers. This time, his treasure was her tongue and without any warning, like a vacuum, he wrapped his own muscle around hers, like a cobra to its pray, and sucked on it in a painfully good single suction. _

"_Ow," she whispered but with a small giggle. Girlishly, she fluttered her eyelashes at him and a soft blush painted her cheeks. "I didn't know you were a lip vampire!" She giggled again but tried to swallow them down and away. Will grinned smugly at her and shrugged one shoulder; "I never thought I was," he admitted, still with his air of unnatural and unlike him arrogance. "I guess it's only your blood I want to taste." Still showing off those shining white, almost ivory, teeth he began to close his eyes and reattached his own lips to her soft, sweet smelling neck. At first they pressed little kisses to a certain spot, enticing a quiet pant from Rachel's mouth. His hands were around her small waist and his fingers rubbed, dug and tickled at her dress, trying to bury a hole with his fingertips and to feel the wanting skin and body underneath. Then Will opened his mouth a little more and scratched his teeth on her neck. Another pant came from her mouth but followed by a moan. As he began to suck hard on neck, painfully once more, she wrapped her hands around the side of his head and pulled him away, trying to be gentle but also trying to show she was serious through her small force. _

_Once his lips were detached from her neck, Rachel brought her eyes level with his. Where she looked at him with a delicate set of brown, his own eyes were dark and shining as bright as charcoal or slate. Although he wasn't quite frowning, there were creases in his forehead. Smiling softly at him, Rachel tucked a strand of hair around her ear and mumbled in that innocent girl way; "I think we should slow down." She gulped slightly as a deeper blush appeared on her cheeks. Now the crease in Will's forehead deepened and grew just as much as Rachel's blush. "What do you mean?" He asked, his tone almost sharp and demanding. Avoiding his stare, Rachel looked away and shrugged before biting her lower lip and saying; "I just think we should slow things down a bit." She then began to stumble on her words as she began to explain. "I…I just…I just think we should…or…or we can talk a little more? I like kissing you, I just think-"_

"_Then why slow down if you like it?" Harshly Will asked, his grip on Rachel's waist tightening. At this move Rachel frowned and looked down to his hand. His thumb was digging and poking into her and the pain was sharper than the sting she had felt on her lip or her neck. "I just think we should-"_

"_Don't think," he said, taking his other hand and putting it on her cheek. His thumb was pressing down on her cheekbone and his fingers gripping around the back of her neck. "Just do it." Like a leopard pouncing on its pray, Will slammed his lips on Rachel's only this time they were attacking her; tongue, lips, teeth, everything, like a wolf slathering on its kill. _

_Within seconds, Rachel was on her back with her dress being pulled up and her breath being taken away. "Will?" She asked, pushing his hands off of her thighs and trying to sit up. "Will wait, what are you doing?" Hovering over her, Will grinned down at her and licked his lips. His teeth were bared and his eyes were glaring into hers. "Come on Rachel, we both know where this is going." He told her, whispering and hushing into the glowing room. He then smacked his lips onto her neck and began kissing his way down to her collarbone, all the while his hand caressing her bent thighs and knees. Once Rachel had understood what was happening – having glanced at his trousers and listening to his warthog like grunts – Rachel's eyes grew wide. She shook her head, her hair haloing on the pillow it was slammed into, and tried to protest. "But wait," she cried, "I don't want to." Having heard her scared gasp as she realised what his intentions were, Will chuckled and shook his head slowly and daringly at her. He then took one of his hands off her thighs, held it up like he would to stop a horse, and lowered it to her most private area. Once his hand touched her pants, he grinned at her gasp and whispered; "Sure you do, Rachel" before beginning to rub her. _

_Gripping her fists together Rachel began to beat them against his chest but with little well endured force. "No, I don't," she begged, "Stop it!" She used her elbows to try and push herself up but he was keeping her grounded. She watched in horror, eyes widening and jaw clenching, as Will skilfully removed his belt from his pants and began to undo the button, finally pulling down the zipper. "Come on Rach, it was consensual last time so it should be this time." Finally his underpants were revealed and Rachel's eyes filled with tears. She didn't want this and she had to let him know she didn't. His reasoning was completely wrong and false. Just because it was somewhat consensual last time, didn't mean this time it was. _

_Sniffling, Rachel shook her head and pressed her palms up against Will, this time hoping her whole hand would get him off her. "It doesn't work that way, Will. Please I don't-"_

"_Put that mouth of yours to good use!" Will ordered and he once again struck his mouth with hers. Shoving his tongue into her mouth, he began to pull the girl's pants down her legs. She struggled and tried to keep him doing it, muffling; "Will, stop it!" But he ignored her. He had successfully removed Rachel's pants and was now making work on getting rid of his own. _

"_You may not have liked it last time because it was your first time" he had freed himself with one hand and now he was lining himself up with Rachel. Before he thrust himself inside her, he looked down at her whimpering face and caressed it with the hand that had been holding her down to the bed. He chuckled as he felt a tear fall onto his finger and brought his face closer to her lips. "But maybe because it was too slow." As he kissed her he pushed himself into her and drowned in her screaming for him to stop. _

_Above her, he thrust as deep and as hard as he could; grunting and moaning, gasping and hissing. All the while Rachel was crying and begging for him to stop with a string of, "No", "Please" and "Stop." The dark eyed man was holding himself above her and beaming with pleasure. "Do you like it a little rougher, Rachel?" He asked her, panting and feeling the sweat fall from his forehead and the slick sweat of his body. Still powerless to stop him, Rachel cried out with her begs, "No!" and "Please!" but Will just managed to laugh. He thrust himself into her more, smacking and clapping himself against all of her spots. Continuing to talk to her, he carried on working himself up into a frenzy. He panted with a great smile plastered on his lips. "Was it too slow and romantic for you last time?" As an answer, Rachel whimpered and allowed the tears to fall down her cheeks. "Please, Will. Please stop it." She urged, the pain inside of her growing to a burning explosion. She couldn't feel anything else but the pain and wanted it to stop. She wanted to know why this kind and caring man was doing this to her but the only words she could form were words of begging. Above her, however, Will continued to ignore her. His orgasm was approaching and he had closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly. "Oh Rachel, you have no idea how good you make me feel!" His hips moved faster and he thrust himself as deep as he could. Rachel was screaming on the inside and tried to make him stop with her cries; "Please stop it! Stop!" Shaking his head, Will managed to pant out her name. He moaned and groaned as the pleasure within him began to become overwhelming; "Oh Rachel! Oh Rachel!-"_

"Rachel!"

In a cold sweat, Will suddenly shot up in his bed and shouted at the top of his lungs an inaudible noise; a frightened scream projected all around his dark and empty room. A ferocious growl was ripped from his throat as he tried to verbally force the nightmare from his mind. Why was he dreaming this? Why would he be dreaming of one of the worst things in the world? Wasn't the guilt of the reality enough for him? In his head he could hear her screams. In his dream she had been screaming and begging for him to stop. Her little hands were pushing against his chest, trying to get him off of her. They pushed against him and her nails dug into his flesh, ripping and scratching at him, hoping the pain would make him fling himself off and she could make an escape. But he never let go. He never stopped hurting her until it was too late. He just let her scream and suffer for his own selfish gains. Her screams were muffled and her cries were quiet, but he could still hear them now that his dream was over and he was awake. Holding his face in his hands, sat up in his bed and with his sheet tangled around him, Will cried into his. His head shook and his fingers gripped into his scalp mumbling over and over; "I'm sorry Rachel. I'm so sorry Rachel." He knew that his dream wasn't real. It wasn't real. His chest wasn't decorated with scratches from Rachel's nails, neither were his sheets tinted with the aroma of Rachel's perfume. The walls of his bedroom weren't echoing with her pleas and cries. Her whimpering was not buried within the pillows and her tears were not dried into the mattress. In this room, on his bed, he wasn't about to force himself onto Rachel or take advantage of her yet again. The fact was it was real. He had done before and it just kept haunting him.

After what felt like hours of pitiful crying, Will lifted his head and took a deep breath through his blocked nose and then took himself to the bathroom. He turned the light on and welcomed the burn the brightness of it blinded him with. He thought the pain his eyes would suffer through for a mere moment was a good thing after the long, enduring pain he had made Rachel suffer through; in his dream and in the reality. His legs stumbled over to the sink and his hands gripped onto the basin. With harsh eyes, he looked at himself and felt himself growl even more. Sweat had protruded through his skin and now lay on his forehead and chest. The whites of his eyes were now pink/red and so were the lids. But he didn't care how tired or haggard he looked. When he looked at himself in his mirror, all he could see was the monster he felt he was. Even though he knew the Rachel in his dream wasn't real, he still felt he had violated her twice. He had hurt her and made her cry and his book, he was an evil man. Before all this had happened, he thought he was a good man. Sure he had made some mistakes, he was after all human, but he had always thought he was respectful to women and would rather die than hurt one intentionally.

As he stared at his reflection long enough, in the silence of his apartment in the dead of night, Will began to cry. Quietly the tears that fell became shuddering whimpers and his sweaty body was replaced by salty droplets. His emotions were weakening him and before he knew it he had crumbled to the floor of his cold bathroom and curled into himself. He cried on the tiles, begging for someone to make his guilt and pain shrivel up. Wrapping his arms around his torso, he cried into the floor and tried to make himself fall asleep. On the one hand he wanted to stay awake: torture himself with the echoes of Rachel's crying and screaming in his mind. But at the same time, maybe he would dream of hurting her again and wake up screaming, crying tears and trying to get some rest. Maybe the lack of sleep would be punishment enough. He needed to be punished somehow for what he did and maybe the lack of sleep or the torturous dreams he was having were enough. For now, he would sleep on the tiles and risk catching some cold related illness. Anything to keep him from feeling any sort of comfort: comfort was one of the last things he needed.

The next day, Will would find he wasn't the only one who hadn't slept well. For Rachel, she had woken up with stomach ache after stomach ache before she realised it was probably one continuous stomach ache. She'd had period cramps before – what girl hadn't – but these just felt terrible. The whole night she had been curled up into as tiny a ball as she could possibly make, squishing a toy monkey between her legs to try and relieve some of the pain. Another monkey was clenched under her arm, as tightly as her closed eyes. When she had arrived at school, having practically chugged her morning coffee like it was water, she knew she wouldn't be able to concentrate. Her stomach was still sore but it was the sickness that was still there that bothered her. Having been menstruating since she was twelve years old, she knew how to persevere though cramps and she never liked to take pain medication – an insane idea that even a headache pill could somehow affect her voice. The sickness, however, just felt strange. She didn't want to eat anything but knew she had to and so by lunch she had been snacking on fruit bars and oatmeal cookies. They were somewhat soothing but the pain was still annoying.

As well as the stomach ache, however, she was more concerned about her emotions. Sometimes as she walked down the halls or sat in class, she wished she had car wing mirrors attached to her. A cold chill would run through her body and she was sure someone was watching her. If her stomach cramps weren't distracting her, then the constant feeling that someone was watching her was. Every slam of a locker was like a gun shot. The metal echo would ring throughout her head and her heart would beat just as fast as if she had been on a mile long run. Her breaths would fail to calm her down whilst walking or standing, so multiple times Rachel would have to lean against something – a wall, a locker or a door – close her eyes, and try to regain control of her irritating body. Fully aware that everyone could be watching and judging her, wondering what was wrong with the school's diva. Hurrying down corridors and rushing through simple tasks – such as getting books or going to the bathroom – Rachel would constantly think someone was following her and her eyes were no longer filled with the eagerness to learn and gain the best grade she could for her senior year, but now filled with paranoid fear.

Quinn had sat with her in their last class of the day - as they usually did – and frowned at the way her best friend was fidgeting. It was math class and so neither of their favourite subjects. They were both more interested in the creative and thinking classes they took, rather than the pure rational ones; AP English, music, history and home economics. That day, Rachel's leg was jolting up and down and her hand holding her pen was shaking. It wasn't like Rachel to be this fidgety in class. Well, the only time she was bouncing up and down in her seat or shaking and unable to keep still, was if she was just bursting to tell the teacher the – more often than not – correct answer, or read out what masterpiece she had created in last night's homework. The blonde watched as Rachel tried to write the date in her math book as neatly as she could and was somewhat baffled at the crazy curving and wiggly waves. Her best friend's handwriting was usually impeccable. Where her own handwriting was probably typical or a natural born writer – lightning bolt jagged and proud letters on important words of information – Rachel's reflected a side to her when she was probably asleep. It was calm and subtle, taken care of and precise as if each word she was taking down and writing was a delicate drop of snow making its way onto the page. When Rachel sighed and ran her hand through her hair, Quinn leaned over and covered her pale one over Rachel's tan.

"Rach?" Calmly and quietly she spoke and waited for Rachel to turn her head to face her. The class had begun, but the teacher was busy scribbling away at the equations they were going to be tackling. He was muttering the numbers under his breath and far too distracted by his subject to care about the class talking. Usually Rachel and Quinn sat at the front of their classrooms and so never directly talked; they were more creative with their communications and instead of talking wrote on piece of paper and sent back and forth junior high styled notes. They even tried to come up with a Morse code but found that was not only difficult but annoying. The blonde squinted, thought written on her face, as she took in the sight of her best friend's face. Under her usually sparkling brown eyes were the classic purple bags and the grey shadows of a terrible night sleep. "Are you okay?" Raising her eyebrow she asked and then smiled as sympathetically as she could, knowing that Rachel was positively _not_ okay.

Dramatically, in a way that can only be described as 'Rachel', her brunette friend shook her head and sighed. Her face scrunched up in that wrinkled way that showed not only she was tired but that she wasn't well. Her hand slid from the table and cupped and cradled her stomach. "I didn't sleep that well," she muttered, liking her lips and looked up at Quinn, who still stared at her with sympathy but also concern. "And I don't feel so good either." Sighing again she began to rub her stomach and rest her tired, heavy head on her palm. Quinn leaned over, nibbling on her lower lip and knitting her eyebrows together. She'd of course seen Rachel throughout the day but her best friend was looking a lot paler now. She thought it must have been because it was the end of the long, droning school day, but it still worried her a little. Her face had a funny looking glow to it as well as being a little ghost like. Reaching out her hand, the blonde felt the tired girl's head and her frown deepened. "You're a little warm, Rachel," she told her and then she proceeded to feel her cheeks too and found them to be just as warm. "Yeah you're kind of feverish. Maybe you should go to the nurse?" In front of her she watched as Rachel shrugged and closed her eyes. "No," she replied with a subtle shake of her tired, warm head. "I'll be okay. It's only one more hour and I can go home and snuggled up in bed with a water bottle listening to 'Funny Girl'." At the end of possibly the longest sentence she had said all day, she opened her eyes and sent her friend a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I'll be okay." With that thin reassurance, Quinn smiled at her but then smirked, her eyes narrowing at her in a playful way that almost resembled the way she used to look at her – back when they weren't friends. "You better be Berry, what with our redo at the completion coming up!" Then she just as playfully punched Rachel lightly on her bicep in the way the football players did.

The move made Rachel jolt a little and she felt her stomach pain increase dramatically. She leaned forward and held her lower stomach again, but found no matter how much pressure she put on it or took off it – something she usually did when she had a stomach ache – the pain wouldn't go. Instead of feeling sick and dizzy, she just felt pain. However, Quinn was giggling to herself and the class was really starting now. Their teacher had turned around and was now giving them instructions on how to complete their task. Rachel, for once, didn't actually care about the class. Even though she usually didn't care about her boring subjects, she still paid attention and tried to talk herself into looking at the bigger picture with what she was learning. But in that class, she couldn't work herself up to give her the pep talk of "If you get a good grade in this class, then it is one step nearer to New York and Broadway!" As the silence of the class went on, Rachel wished more than anything that she had taken Quinn's advice and gone to the nurse.

At the dinner table that night, it was Leroy and Hiram's turn to question Rachel's behaviour. The two men had noticed it as soon as they had gotten home. It must have been parental intuition or something of that sort because when they had both gotten home, one after the other, they had gone up to their daughter's bedroom and asked her tentatively if she was okay. Both had brought her tea and kissed her on the head, leaving to allow her to get back to her homework. The air had been a little tense as they all sat around their dinner table. Rachel had been pushing back her vegetables and had barely touched her salmon. At first the men thought she was reverting back to her vegan days, but she had commented on saving her ice cream for later. They usually had ice cream or frozen yoghurt for dessert and both her parents had seen her love for the frozen treats. In that case, they had telepathically agreed, there had to be something else wrong with her. Either she was upset or ill and neither one of those options were going to be around for long. Especially with what had happened to her barely two months ago. They wouldn't let anything bad happen to her ever again, starting with whatever was making her look and act so miserable.

Clearing his throat, Leroy put down his cutlery and leaned across the small table to take hold of his daughter's hand. "Rachel, are you feeling okay?" He asked, his deep voice trying to go an octave higher to sound more sympathetic and more caring. He knew he did sound both of those things, but there was something in a person's light tone that made them sound more so. Looking up at her dad, Rachel shrugged her shoulders and replied; "Sort of." Leroy frowned at her answer and looked at his husband, thinking he would be able to translate for him. Unfortunately, like a lot of dads, Hiram didn't know what his daughter's reply meant so he echoed her comment, "Sort of?" hoping for a better explanation. Rachel put down her fork and looked at her daddy with sad eyes. "Yeah I…I just have a bit of a stomach ache."

"You do look a little pale." Leroy said, frowning and beginning to get up. Rachel knew what was coming. Her father was a doctor after all. He got up and walked the two strides it was to get to her. "I'll be okay." She told her crouched down dad, who was now repeating the same sort of 'checks' that Quinn had done. "Of course you will, but maybe you should just go to bed sweetheart." He told her, having felt her clammy forehead and hot cheeks. He stood back up with a slight groan. Looking back at her dinner, Rachel nodded her head. "I think I will, I do feel a little dizzy." She admitted and began to take herself off to her room. Before she left the dining room however, Hiram asked; "Do you want to take your dinner upstairs?"

Even though his daughter was clearly not well, he still thought she should try and have some food inside of her. Even if she vomited later on, in his own experience it was better to have something inside to come out rather than just dry heaving. "Yeah, I'll finish up there later." She told them, even though she had no plans to continue the dinner. Smiling softly she thanked her fathers but once again she was stopped by another comment. This time it was Leroy, using his special 'doctor' voice. "Rachel, if you don't feel better tomorrow please take the day off." Her dad was only looking out for her, but he knew how much she hated missing school. Rolling her eyes at him, she smiled and made her way out of the room calling back; "I'll be fine. Honestly."

As she practically crawled her way up the stairs, Rachel found that familiar feeling of a period come on. Every girl knew when she was menstruating. They could sense and feel it coming. With every step she took, she could feel the blood seep out and trickle down her. Shaking her still exhausted head, she gave herself a small smile and a whispered; "At least that explains why I haven't been feeling well." In her room she took off her clothes with a relieved sigh and laid her pyjamas out on the top of her bed, smoothing the comforter with a longing look. Starting with a hot, steaming shower she was now ready to simply relax. Her muscles and stomach needed it. In the bathroom, however, she was startled at just how much blood there was collected in her pants. Apart from when she just started her periods, like probably every girl, she'd never really had a heavy flow. Looking at her panties as intently as she did, Rachel began to feel dizzy again. The sight of how much blood was there was stunned her and she felt herself shiver again. Of course it was probably natural that she could have a heavy one every now and again, but it was startling. Turning towards the sink, she put the stained and probably ruined garment under a hot flow from the tap and watched as the residue of the blood drained away.

Under the steaming water, Rachel felt her shoulder and back muscles unwind. She washed her hair and relaxed as best as she could, sighing and tilting her head so that she could imagine she was some fabulous Grecian goddess under a waterfall. There was nothing more soothing than a hot shower after a long and tiring day of school, followed by comfy pyjamas and reading a good book or falling asleep to a classic movie. Unusually, she didn't sing in the shower. Where most people spent their shower time belting out songs and ballads, Rachel preferred to take the time relaxing and thinking. Her stomach pain was still there, having progressed throughout the dinner. Where she had a rule of not taking pain medication, for an irrational fear of it damaging her vocal chords, she was considering making an exception. She hadn't had period pain quite like this for a long time. The fact it was affecting her appetite as well as her concentration was concerning her. Still, as with most period pain, she would only have it for one day and then the next she would be back to her usual self.

Unfortunately, this plan of being back to normal hadn't quite gone as she had planned. She had woken up hot and sweaty and still uncomfortable. Still, even though she had promised her fathers that she would rest if she wasn't better, she knew that was out of the question. That lunch time she was going to show her team mates her song that should secure them a place in the next round of the completion. She couldn't just sleep all morning, go in for the song and then come home again. It wasn't in her to just skip most of the day. So, as she stood in front of her full length mirror, she gave herself another one of her infamous pep talks:

"Rachel," she said sternly as she smoothed down her outfit. "You are fine. Yes you may be a little pale and your stomach may be in huge knots, but that is no excuse to miss school. You will not ruin your perfect record attendance any more than you have already." Sharply, she breathed through her nose as she felt a spitfire of pain shoot through her. Her hands splayed against her stomach and she held herself tightly. "This is just period pain," she told herself; strangled and straining tone giving away her true pain. "By the time you've performed for the Glee Club, you'll be fine. Besides," she straightened herself as she prepared to leave her home for school, "It's the weekend soon. You can rest then." Within ten minutes, she had grabbed her backpack, kissed her fathers goodbye and was on the road, ready to wow her friends and teammates.

Will was no better.

The stressed out teacher had yet another nightmare about Rachel. It wasn't as intense as his previous nightmare, but he still woke up with the atrociously large amount of guilt weighing on him. For a second night he had punished himself by sleeping on the cold bathroom floor. His back ached and his neck felt like it had been twisted and bent by Houdini himself. Groaning, he stretched and tried to pop and pull at the painful muscles. His legs were stiff and rigid, the only other time he had felt his entire body be this sore and mangled was when he had woken up in the supply closet with Rachel. Yet another punishment he would give himself. Once he had stood up and gripped onto the sink, he moaned at his appearance. He hadn't shaved for two days and now he was starting to resemble a very broken man. His face was positively grey; sunken and almost corpse like. His eyes were dark and bloodshot and his hair was untameable. Yet he didn't care. If he looked like a homeless man, then he did. Feeling once again unworthy of looking like a human being, he simply staggered into his bedroom and dressed himself. At least his clothes were clean. Finally was ready to leave, having drowned a huge cup of black coffee – that, along with everything else in his kitchen – was running out of – and picked a slice of stale bread out of his bread bin.

As tired as he was, he was still able to drive pretty normally; checking for pedestrians and cyclists, making sure he didn't run through red lights and checking in all his mirrors. The only difference was his attitude. Normally he never gave into road rage, yet he was so tired and actually running late, he couldn't care less about his swearing, flashing lights, long toots of his car horn or slamming harshly on his breaks. He didn't care if some of his "Move out of the way asshole!" or "You call that driving? I call it being a douchebag!" or "Can't you see I'm late for work you shithead?!" were possibly directed at students. He just wasn't in the mood for anything. All he cared about was getting to work. Once he got there, he would only care about eating a crappy lunch from the cafeteria and once that was over, he would only care about getting home and cracking open a beer. A regular Friday night on a Thursday: beer and pretending to watch something on his television. He didn't care if he would be hung over the next day; the headache and dry mouth would be another punishment.

Yet once both he and Rachel got into school and started their days, they didn't know just how different it would be for them than what they were expecting.

Wandering into class, Rachel spotted Quinn straight away in the front row right in the middle: just where they always sat in English. Her blonde best friend was scribbling down notes (either for an essay or a story, Rachel didn't know) and so Rachel tried not to disturb her. She knew that when her friend was in a writing mood, she had to be left to pop her own bubble instead of having someone else do it for it. But as she did sit down, the brunette made a groan and a heavy sigh. The sound not only popped Quinn's bubble but burst and shattered it completely. Her best friend looked up and snapped her private notebook closed. Just as the same as the previous day Quinn's eyebrows knitted closely together and a worried hand landed on Rachel's shoulder.

"Are you okay?" She asked, a lot more startled than concerned than before. Again Rachel nodded her head and told her that her stomach ache still had not gone. Quinn rolled her eyes at her best friend but continued to comfort her by squeezing her shoulder. "You seriously need to get over this fear about taking pain medication," she told her, trying to not have such a strong and stern voice. "If you're in pain then you should do something about it. Humans have been medicating themselves for centuries and now we actually have the means to do it by not accidentally killing ourselves."

"I'm not worried about killing myself, Quinn, I'm worried about killing my singing voice."

"Well your health should take priority over your singing voice." Quinn scoffed, shaking her head at how ridiculous her friend was being. "Quinn," Rachel near enough growled as she turned herself to face her friend. "I am not jeopardising my future as a Broadway star by taking something that could seriously harm my voice!"

"Rachel you are as a pale and as grey as the New York skyline, will you please just take something?"

"No Quinn, it's just period pain. I'll get over it."

"Wait," Quinn said, her eyebrows knitting together once more. "Period pain? I thought you already had your period?" Rachel shook her head, turning herself to face the front of the classroom, seeing as their teacher had walked in. "No it was late."

"But your periods are never late? We have them near enough at the same time. That's why Santana called us that ridiculous name 'Period Pals'."

"Yeah well, she and Brittany are 'Menstrual Mates'!" Rachel joked back, smiling quickly at Quinn before rubbing her lower abdomen again. The blonde laughed and agreed with the nickname, storing it in the back of her mind to use against the two other best friends. But all jokes aside, Quinn gave Rachel one last concerned look and said; "Will you please at least take it easy today? Especially when you're singing your song at lunch?" Turning one last final time for that class, Rachel nodded her head and sent her kind and caring best friend a soft smile.

Stomping feet made a thunderous noise down the hallways. Will had been charging like an entire heard of rhino all day. Now it was lunch time, he had barged his way to the front of the queue and grabbed the last turkey salad sandwich and chocolate chip cookie, much to the displeasure of a poor freshman poor. All day he had been shouting at his students and making them question his attitude. Football players he usually ignored got stern telling offs as they dropped litter or threw their footballs around. At one point, he slammed his fist into a locker and snarled at them to quit being so childish and get to class. Now he was making his way to Glee Club rehearsal and he was trying as hard as he could to hold his rage together. His one cup of coffee that morning was not enough to keep him awake and so at every opportunity he got he was throwing it down his throat. Feeling the burn wake him up just as much as the caffeine itself.

Just as he was about to enter the choir room, fifth cup of coffee in hand, he heard his name being called. "Will!" Sighing (which sounding more like an irritable groan than a tired release of breath) he turned around and saw Emma Pilsbury. She was possibly the sweetest woman in the school. Ginger hair perfectly groomed and adorable yet quirky clothes all neatly pressed. Her huge bush baby eyes smiled at him and for a moment he couldn't feel his guilt, anger or fatigue. One look from her could melt all negative feelings. Once upon a time he had feelings for this woman. She was everything a guy could want; sweet, sensitive, caring and a little cookie! But now they were just friends. They had tried to date when his divorce came through, but they decided they were better as friends. Right now he was glad they were just friends, although he was a little worried that his temper could flare up if she stayed around for much longer. Clenching his jaw, he tried to smile at her as she spoke.

"Will, hi! How are you? I just wanted to check you were okay. You're looking a little tired." She then gave him that look that just screamed pity. He sighed and wanted nothing more than to just spill his heart and mind out to her. After all, she was the school's guidance counsellor; she could probably offer him some advice. However, he couldn't. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't just tell her all of his problems. And he was so tired and frustrated at everything, he let out another sigh and told her; "Look I can't talk right now, Emma." And with that, he stomped his foot and walked into the choir room, leaving his friend and colleague almost completely stunned. Still, she expected a similar reaction when she decided to ask him how he was. Nodding to herself, and smoothing down her outfit once more, Emma turned around walked back the way she came to go to her office.

Inside the room, Rachel and Quinn were sat at the front and the rest of the Glee Club were sat behind them on the bleachers. As usual, Santana and Brittany sat as closely as humanly possible without actually sitting on each other's laps, whispering and talking with soft smiles and big eyes. Finn, Puck and Sam all sat together talking, close to Mike and Artie who were also talking. Mercedes, Tina, Kurt and Blaine sat together gossiping as usual as well. But Will, of course, only had eyes for Rachel. And what his eyes were seeing concerned him. The brunette was doubled over clutching her stomach and had Quinn stroking her back. As he stepped more into the room – the teenagers quietening their conversations – he looked at Rachel with a deeper stare.

"Rachel?" He asked softly, "Are you okay?" The small brunette lifted her head and gave her teacher a pained smile. "Yes I'm okay," she told him, and then started to get out of her chair to make her way to the front of the class. "In fact, I'm okay enough to show you all-" But she was stopped by her best friend tugging on her shirt. "Rachel, don't be ridiculous!" She scolded her best friend and tried to get her to sit back down. Rachel protested and continued to make her way to the front of the class. "Rachel please," Quinn then looked to her teacher. "Mr Schuster, Rachel clearly isn't well. Can we postpone this unveiling for another time?"

"Quinn as much as I love you for your care and concern, I am fine." However much she tried to convince Quinn – and everyone else in the room – the wince on her face proved otherwise. Her hands gripped at her stomach and she could feel the sweat begin to collect under her hairline. "Rachel you are not fine!" Quinn shouted, standing up and stomping her foot. The rest of the room focused on the little scene in front of them. Brittany gripped onto Santana's pinky finger and moved herself even closer to her Latina best friend. The boys all nudged each other, jeering each other on to mentally bet on who would win this little spat. The girls, Kurt and Blaine also did the same, however Blaine less so than the others due to the fact he just wanted to hear the song so they could all give Rachel direction for once.

At the front of the classroom, Rachel narrowed her eyes at Quinn. "Quinn please, I told you that I'm fine-" But once again she was interrupted by the blonde. She pointed her pale finger at Rachel and stepped up to her. "And I told you Rachel that you are not fine. You can barely stand up, you're shaking and you can't keep focus."

"Not to mention how sweaty she looks!" Santana called from the back. Brittany looked at her best friend with a frown but Santana shook her head. "That's not an insult," she defended, "Look at her!" And the whole class did look. Rachel was now sweating profusely and her legs were indeed shaking. Put on the spot, Rachel began to shake her head but doing that she felt more and more dizzy. "Look, everyone I am fine and I would like to start…" She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as another shot of pain rain through her. She sank on her knees a little and continued to shake her head. "Look I'm fine," but her voice was sounding weaker and weaker.

Seeing Rachel slowly collapse in on herself, Will put his coffee mug on the floor and went to support her. As soon as his fingertips took hold of her, he felt her burning up. "Rachel you're really warm. You've got a fever." He tried to get her to sit down but she resisted, claiming once again that she was okay. Then, just as she was about to shout at him and Quinn for overreacting, a final wave of pain ripped through her and cry blared from her throat. Wide eyed, Quinn ran to the other side of her and she and Will put her on the floor. "Rachel?" She cried out, putting Rachel at an angle so that her head was resting in her lap. Will crouched with her and tried to get her cooler by pathetically fanning her. Now, however, she was shivering in Quinn's arms. "It hurts!" The brunette cried out, tears finally falling from her eyes. Will was immediately sent back to the night of their attack: Rachel crying out in pain, telling him that she was in pain and him doing nothing to stop it; powerless to stop the pain.

Within moments, the entire Glee Club were out of their seats and behaving like wild animals. The boys were shouting that Rachel was being overdramatic and that she should just have some water and sing the song, that way they could all get lunch. The girls were wondering what to do; each one whipping out a different kind of pain relief medication. Quinn was trying to console Rachel, wiping away her tears and saying that she would drive her home. Will was stuck still next to her. Unsure and unaware of what to do. He couldn't stop frowning at Rachel, wondering what was wrong. This was surely more than a stomach ache. At least a normal stomach ache. It wasn't until Santana gasped, stood up and shouted; "She's bleeding" did the chaos change. Now Quinn knew that this was more than just period pain and more than just a heavy period. Not caring about how her actions may have looked, the blonde moved Rachel so she was resting in their teacher's arms and then looked under her friend's skirt and saw that two streams of blood were seeping out from between Rachel's legs. Her worried eyes looked up to her teacher's and they both paled instantly.

"Mr Schuster," Quinn whispered in shock, "We need to get her to a hospital. Now."


	12. Chapter Twelve: New Reason

**Hi everyone! **

**So sorry it's taken so long to post this. Crazy work load over the summer and yet another case of serious writer's block. It was a really difficult chapter to write but I hope you like it**

**Chapter Twelve:**

**New Reason**

"_Rachel!-" _

"_Santana, why is she still bleeding?-" _

"_Rachel, wake up!-" _

"_I don't know Brittany-"_

"_Rachel please!-"_

"_Why has she fainted? Is she gonna be okay, San?-"_

"_Can you hear me Rach?-"_

"_Yeah Brit, she's going to be fine-."_

"_Come on!-"_

"_So why did she pass out?-"_

"_I don't know Brit, but she's going to be okay-"_

"_She's bleeding, did she lose too much? Is it because of her period?-"_

"_No Britt, it's not-"_

"_She must be in so much pain! And we can't do anything to help!-"_

"_What's wrong with her?-"_

"_Shush, it's okay Brit, she's going to be okay.-" _

"_Oh God!-"_

_"Finn, go get the nurse!-"_

"_I think I know what's wrong.-"_

"_Rachel, please!-" _

"_It's bad, right Quinn?-" _

"_Rachel please wake up!-" _

"_Really bad, especially if she doesn't wake up soon-"_

"_Mr Schue, I've got the nurse-"_

"_Please help her! Rachel, please!-" _

"_I've never seen something like this in a high school student before-"_

"_Quinn what's wrong with her? Tell me if you think you know-"_

"_Have you called an ambulance?-"_

"_Please just help her!-"_

"_Everything is going to be okay, Rachel-"_

_"Rachel, I promise everything is okay. I promise you, you are going to be okay. I swear, I won't leave you. I won't let you be hurt again. I promise!-"_

Everything was happening at once.

One minute she was shouting at Quinn for being too overprotective and the next she was collapsing to the floor and being laid down in her best friend's arms. Then she was crying, being passed into Will's arms and crying more. The pain was so intense that at one point she didn't think she could breathe. Everyone in front of her was going blurry. She could barely make out the shapes of people, let alone who anyone was. The colours were there but they were blurring; the bright red of Brittany, Santana and Quinn's uniforms were deepening, the greens, greys and blues of the boys were merging and dimming and the bright colours of Kurt and Blaine's outfits were disappearing. Everything was becoming black. She could hear their voices; hearing just how worried they were once it became clear she really wasn't well.

What she could sense the most though, was Will and Quinn's fright. Underneath her body she could feel Will shaking as he held her and she could feel Quinn trembling too. They were talking to her; asking her if she was okay. Being unable to answer, only through tears, was just as painful as the agony in her stomach. What frightened her just as much as her actually collapsing into her best friend's arms, was the fact she could feel herself slipping away. Not only could she feel her consciousness fall from her grasp, but she could feel her blood streaming from her too. Just as she was in Will's arms, she was powerless to stop it, just the same as she couldn't stop herself from passing out.

Unconscious and in his arms, Rachel could feel all the commotions surrounding her, as well as the pain within her intensify and explode. In all her life she had never felt so much pain. It was worse than the pain she had felt on the night of her attack. Where she knew that pain was going to end shortly after Will would stop moving, she had no idea when this one would end. It was like every bit of her was being ripped and shredded, torn apart and burned. Somehow she was numb with pain, but that was probably due to the fact she was now waiting to wake up. Waiting to wake up to the excruciating pain. She didn't want to face it. She would rather have anything else happen to her, but she did not want to feel this kind of pain again. Ever. Even though she was unconscious, she knew what was happening. It was obvious as to what was happening. She wasn't dying, at least she hoped she wasn't dying, so she sort of could feel what was happening to her. Kind of like how she could feel the frightened, worried atmosphere created by her friends and thanks to her dramatic crying and fainting. Due to her unconsciousness, she couldn't exactly hear what was happening, neither could she see what was going on either, but she could make an educated guess:

Santana was still holding Brittany tightly to her, to shield her from the sight of their friend and captain bleeding unconsciously on the choir room floor, even though she herself was petrified at what was going on. Mike was doing the same to Tina, only they were both crying – Mike a little less so than Tina who was growing hysterical whilst Mercedes held onto her hand with her own large tears rolling down her face. Mercedes was also trying to figure out what was wrong, in head and also by occasionally barking out a "What the hell is happening?" whilst then ironically praying loudly for Rachel to be okay. Kurt holding onto Mercedes' shoulders and squeezing them, trying to relieve some tension praying with her, even though he didn't even believe in God. Blaine by his side, praying with everything he had; his boyfriend may not believe in an Almighty, but he did and was going to pray for Rachel on Kurt's behalf as well as his own. Sam, Puck and Artie were doing the best they could to calm every down, having made sure to give Mr Schuster and the nurse some room. They were frantically calling ambulance after ambulance, checking to make sure it was on its way and making sure to have the best room in the hospital ready and the best doctors on standby. Finn was stood behind Will, pacing the floor with his hands behind his head and crying out for the ambulance to hurry up. The nurse was trying to wake Rachel up with gentle shakes and callings of her name, taking her weak pulse and dabbing at her sweaty head with a cloth she had brought with her in her kit bag.

On the floor, Will was cradling Rachel's head in his arms, dripping heavy tears onto her and stroking her beautiful hair away from her pale, but still equally beautiful face. His mumbles were light in tone but deep and heavy with guilt and apologies. He had vowed never to let Rachel be in any pain or discomfort or upset ever again, and yet here she was; in pain, discomfort and no doubt frightened as anything.

Beside the nurse, Quinn had wandered over from Santana and Brittany to hold onto Rachel's knee and rubbed it soothingly, as if she had pulled a muscle. She was the only one – besides Rachel of course – not making a sound. Her eyes were just as wet as the other girls' and her mind was screaming out prayer after prayer, but she felt she had to reassure Rachel even in her subconscious state. Quinn Fabray may not be a doctor or a nurse or anything like that, but she felt she had some sort of expertise on what was going on. She had a pretty good idea of what was happening, having read an insane amount about the subject. She didn't how she could possibly know – and even less so did she understand how this could have happened to Rachel in the first place – but she would be there for her best friend in same way the brunette was there for her.

Eventually the ambulance arrived and there was more chaos. This time it wasn't the girls crying and begging to know what was wrong, but Will fighting for his right to be in the ambulance. As soon as Artie and Sam yelled out to them that the ambulance had arrived, everyone in the room made a move to see Rachel off. "No stop!" Will called out, halting and silencing his students for a moment. He lifted Rachel – light as a doll – into his arms, not caring about the blood now covering his shirt, making it look as if he had been shot. The nurse took off down the hall to meet the paramedics and tell them what had happened, leaving Will to tell his students what to do. He scanned their faces quickly as he told them to stay put. "You guys need to give Rachel space. Go home and wait for news, okay?" Knowing that his request was probably completely unfair, Will sealed his command with a pleading; "It's the best for Rachel right now." And hoped that they would listen and obey him.

Mostly everyone agreed with him. Brittany had her head nestled under Santana's chin and her arms wrapped around her waist, Santana rubbing soothing circles onto her back and whispering that they would curl up in her double bed, eat ice cream and watch Disney movies until they had good news. The blonde nodded and sniffled, biting onto her lips to stop her from crying any more, and tried to distract herself by thinking of which movie she wanted to watch first. Tina, Mercedes and Kurt decided they would go to the Lima Bean coffee shop and wait for news there. If they were in public then it would be easier for them to channel positive thoughts and not break down: no one liked to cry in front of strangers. As for the boys, they were going to try and take their minds off of what had happened by playing video games back at Puck's house. It was clear no one would be doing homework or assignments; they had to do fun things just take themselves away from the horrible, frightening thing that had happened to their friend.

Quinn would wait too. But not at home. Not in the comfort of her mother's arms or join her friends at one of their destinations. There was only one place where she wanted to go: church. Even though she had lost her way after Beth's birth and adoption, she found that reconnecting with her faith had brought her back to the real world and that it consoled her more than anything. Right now, Rachel needed her to pray for her. Even though Quinn knew she could pray at the hospital, the church was probably a better place to go. If she was right about what was wrong with Rachel, would need her own strength and guidance to deal with it too, as well as for Rachel's sake. She prayed for a quick moment that she was wrong. She had to be wrong.

Once the two of them had parted ways the previous day, the blonde just couldn't shake away the sinking feeling that something was wrong with Rachel. Throughout her entire drive home she had been trying to think of what was going on with her best friend. When she was pregnant with Beth, she had researched every possible thing that could go wrong. It was stupid of her because it only made her worry, but at the same time it made her extra cautious and at the end of it, she had given birth to the most beautiful little girl she had ever seen. Looking at Rachel, she decided to look into some of her old medical research. Logging onto her favourite 'diagnosis' website, she looked up some possible causes for Rachel's disturbing illness. Although it was more than likely that she was just going through a bad period, something still seemed off. When the information came up on the screen, she had gasped and tried not to believe it. Slamming her laptop screen she began to pace her room; shaking her head with disbelief and trying not to think of it. Now though, as she watched her teacher lift her best friend from the ground and carry her to the ambulance, she found her fingers had gripped onto the little golden cross around her neck and her lips mumbling prayer after prayer.

None of the friends and team mates wanted to just go into their homes or little bubbles of comfort. They wanted to stick together. The Glee Club was a strange sort of family, and so they wanted to be there for their captain. It was what Mr Schuster had always said to them. Saying they were a family was the Glee Club slogan and motto. They wanted to wait in the cold, white, disinfectant smelling hospital waiting room until they knew Rachel would be okay. Of course, they knew it was better if they stayed away. They would be told any news and they should be productive rather than just wait around. But it was going to be hard. Whenever one of their teammates was knocked down – either through a bad grade, bullying or illness – they were always there to support them. Their captain needed them, but as usual their teacher had the overall rule: they were to all go home and let Rachel get better before the good news could reach them.

Like a heroic fireman or superman or any other clichéd image anyone could think of, Will carried Rachel as fast as he could to where the paramedics were pushing the gurney. He picked her up like she was made of nothing. Supporting her head like a delicate flower or a precious new born baby. Staring at her with frightened eyes. Pouting lips and furrowed forehead, willing her to okay. Tiny mumbles came through her lips but they were nothing more than the whimpers of a dream. As he came closer to the paramedics – ignoring all the looks and whispers yet again from the other students – he saw their shocked faces. There were two paramedics and they were a little taken aback by how much blood had gotten on Will's shirt, but they were – of course – more focused on Rachel. Carefully, Will lowered her onto the stretcher and she was taken out of the school and put into the ambulance; the whole time the paramedics were putting an oxygen mask on her, trying to wake her up and injecting her with something whilst talking and spluttering medical mumbo-jumbo jargon that reminded Will of those hospital programmes he hated. He hated them because of how real they sometimes felt and he would hate them even more now he had seen something similar to what goes on in the shows in real life.

As he was leaving the school, he was stopped by the sound of Finn's voice calling after him: "Mr Schue wait!" And Will stopped himself, turned back and frowned. "Finn I told you-"

"I'm going in the ambulance with Rachel." He puffed out, running out of breath from the adrenaline of everything that had happened as well as chasing Will down the hallways. Will frowned deeper and shook his head. "No Finn, you're not." It was now the boy's turn to frown. "What do you mean?" He asked, shaking his head and began walking to the ambulance at a quick pace. "She's my ex-girlfriend, I have to go with her!" Hearing Finn pull the 'ex' card made Will boil and fizz with anger. He chased after Finn, yelling out all the excuses he could think of to make him not go in the ambulance: "I'm her teacher, I should go", "You need to stay here, be a man and a leader and take the fort whilst your captain is down", "By law I should go", "I have to go; as an adult and teacher it is my job." Within seconds, they were both stood behind the ambulance, with a female paramedic prepping Rachel and the other male paramedic looking at the two of them, wondering which man would come into the ambulance. He hoped they would hurry up, but it was clear one of them was going to join the young girl. "Come on you guys," he called out, looking back at his colleague who was signalling that they needed to hurry up. "We gotta go!"

Both men, the teacher and student, realised they had mere seconds to settle this impromptu, tiny battle. Squaring up to the student he sometimes thought of as his friend or even brother, due to how close they had gotten thanks to Glee Club, Will gritted his teeth and stared Finn down. He was going in the back of the ambulance and he wasn't going to leave Rachel's side. Finn had to know this and he had to pull out the only excuse that, in his opinion at the moment, really mattered. Although the football player/Glee Club captain was at least a foot taller and definitely stronger than him, Finn backed down slightly. He knew when his teacher and mentor, was right and that he had to listen. "I am going with Rachel in the ambulance because I promised I would never leave her when she was in danger." The two men stared at one another for a second before Finn finally backed down. Remembering just how much Rachel had been through with their teacher, it was probably better that he accompany her. Also, he was right: this would be his opportunity to be the man and the leader Mr Schuster had been teaching him to be. Nodding his head, Finn stepped aside and allowed the curly haired, blood stained man get on board.

As quickly as he could, Will practically jumped into the ambulance and broke down in tears again as he held onto Rachel's hand. He squeezed it between the both of his own and allowed the paramedics to do their job, again in almost silence. "Don't worry Rachel, I'm here," he told her with a whispered whimper and he brought her limp hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. "I'm not going to leave you Rachel. I haven't before and I won't now. I promise." He kept stroking her hair back, being careful not to disturb the oxygen mask covering her mouth and nose. The ambulance was moving at such a speed and with the sirens blaring as loudly as they could, Rachel would be in the hands of excellent doctors very soon. But all that was nothing, meaningless and non-existent to Will. He was oblivious to speed and the noise, the jostling and the motion. All he was focus on was Rachel. His eyes raked over her face. She was so pale. How could he have not noticed how ill she was looking before? Her forehead had been practically dripping and melting with sweat whilst she was crying out. Why was no one taking her pain seriously? What was wrong with her? Why to her?

With pitying eyes the ginger paramedic looked down at him; "She's somewhat conscious now, but she's in a lot of pain so we've given her some morphine for it." Will nodded his head and went to open his mouth again so he could talk to her. Knowing she could probably hear him now – even if she was just asleep – was a great relief to him. But just as he was about to speak, Rachel squeezed onto his hand in a tight grip and began to whimper. "Rachel?" He called out, his own eyes wide and startled. "Rachel," He cooed, smoothing her hair down with a fatherly touch. Smiling down at her, trying to be reassuring, Will continued to shush her and keep her calm. "It's okay, you're going to be okay." His hand stroked through her hair and tried to coerce her out of whatever hazy dream or unconscious stream she was in.

Under his hand, Rachel's eyes twitched and her mouth moved slightly. Then, her face contorted and she began to speak. "Daddy," She mumbled, "Daddy! Dad! I want my daddy!" Tiny tears slipped from her eyes and then her head began to shake from side to side. Sighing, biting his lip slightly, Will cooed; "I know Rachel, I know," He then shushed the tired girl as the paramedic went to up Rachel's morphine dose just a tad. It was then that Rachel realised what was happening and her panic set in as well as the pain. "Daddy!" She screamed and tried to sit up, despite the movement of the ambulance. "It hurts so bad!" She cried and turned her head to lock eyes with Will. "What's going on? Why am I in so much pain?" Her eyes screamed just as loudly as her mouth. They begged for answers and relief but Will couldn't respond with words. He only held onto her little hand and tried to sooth her for the rest of the ride to the hospital.

Once they had arrived at the hospital, Lima General, Will was told to stay in the waiting room. He was terrified and begged to go with her. His eyes were as wide and fearful as Rachel's as he cried out to the doctors; "Please let me go with her," followed by tearful begging; "I can't leave her, please!" On the stretcher being taken away to get seen to, the frightened brunette was upright and stretching her arm out to her teacher. She was fully awake, working and running off the pain, and petrified. "Please Will!" She kept begging as she was taken away into a viewing room, "Please stay with me! I want my dads but please stay with me!" She was crying once again, trying to stay sat up as nurses kept telling her stay still, and practically pushing her back down on the stretched. Although in pain, her body kept twisting and trying to reach out for Will's hand.

Since they had gotten out of the ambulance, he hadn't let her side. Both of them held onto each other's hands in tight grips. Will's had encased Rachel's and once or twice he had pressed his lips to her knuckles and tried to soothe her. Still with the fatherly image in his mind his free strong hand had stroked her hair back and his comforting voice had soothed and hushed her, trying to lull her into a sleep. Biting his lip, his eyes pleading with the doctors more than his words, he couldn't believe the contrasts of mood and atmosphere he was witnessing. Even though Rachel had cried in the ambulance, she was somewhat calm.

Now, it was like a battle zone.

Everything was going so fast and yet he couldn't focus on anything because of how slow his eyes were moving. From the calm and almost dreamlike state of the ambulance to the raging war of the loud noise and chaos filled hospital, he wanted to know where it all started and wanted it to end soon. A nurse had come and grabbed Will's arm to lead him away but he had shaken her off and charged forward to be with Rachel. One of the doctors – a tall man who clearly worked out – took hold of him too and tried to explain the situation. Of course, Will couldn't hear him. All he could do was keep his eyes trained on the girl who was more to him than just his student. Looking at Rachel's tear soaked face he saw that she wanted him with her just as much as he wanted to be with her; her pleads were just for the doctor's sake. He needed to hold her. He needed to be her rock right now. Even when her parents arrived, he would still be there for her.

Looking at the blonde haired, green eyed, rosy cheeked and seemingly just out of college, doctor in the eye one more time, Will begged one last time for him to be allowed to stay with Rachel. "Please sir," he began "Please she's frightened and in pain…" He sighed, running his hand over his face and collecting a mixture of tears and sweat. In his moment of silence, he heard Rachel cry out in a long scream and the sound broke his heart. The sound of Rachel's cry was a mere echo, meaning she was too far away for him to get to her. He had been pushed into a more secluded waiting room where a few family members of other patients were sat. They all kept their eyes on themselves; too busy worrying about their own loved ones to care about Will's scene. "Please let me stay with her until her fathers come." Following protocol, however, the young doctor shook his head and began to walk away. "I'll come and get you whilst her tests are being conducted. In the meantime why don't you contact her parents again? She shouldn't be too long." Mumbling a quick goodbye, the doctor left the waiting room, his white coat flying like a cape of science behind him. Before he could crumble to the ground or rush out to ignore his orders of staying put, the nurse who had held him back in the first place lead him to a seat in the corner of the room. Her scrubs were brightly coloured and he assumed it was to make patients and visitors more at ease. Right now though, he just wanted to rip up the large print flowers and scream until he was allowed to hold Rachel's hand again.

"Come on sir," she too cheerfully sang at him, "Don't worry about her. She'll be okay. She's in good hands I promise. Doctor Stevenson is a very-"

"I don't care how good a doctor you think he is!" Will bellowed, trying to stand up and trying to rush to her again. "All I care about is Rachel! As far as I know she's never been in a hospital by herself before and she has no idea what the hell is happening to her and why she is in so much pain! I need to be there for her! I need to hold her hand-" At this point another nurse had come in and tried to hand the raging man a plastic cup of tea with sugar in it. However, as soon as he saw it he smacked it out of her hand, just missing her, and stood up again. "I need to be with her!" He shouted again, this time however his voice was watery and his eyes were streaming with hot, salty tears. "I promised her I wouldn't leave her and now she's all on her own and I…I don't know what to do!" As if gravity was finally working for him, the adrenaline drained teacher sank into the chair he had been forced into and cradled his head in his hands.

Above him the two nurses shared a sympathetic look. The large ginger woman with the bright pink, flowery scrubs rubbed his arm. "She won't be alone for long," softly she assured him. "Her parents will be here soon and then she'll be okay. All right?" He wasn't all right. He didn't want her to be 'all right'. All he knew was the school had contacted both of Rachel's fathers and they were on their way. The irony of the situation was Leroy – Rachel's dad – worked in the hospital but in another department, paediatrics and so probably hadn't gotten the message yet. Hiram – her daddy – would surely arrive first. Once he began thinking about it, Will then realised that his pain of not being able to see Rachel wouldn't be half as bad as the pain her fathers would have. She was their daughter after all. They had a bond that really mattered. Once they arrived, his pain and bond wouldn't matter.

Shakily, Will brought his cell phone to his ear after dialling Hiram's number. He couldn't work out how he had done so, but he was suddenly shaken from his daydreamed like thoughts from a concerned and frightened father. "Will what the hell has happened?" He began to ramble and it took the curly haired man every ounce of his strength not to break down crying. "The school called me saying Rachel had collapsed a…and that she was bleeding and…Will what's going on?" The father sobbed at the fate of his only child and Will's voice cracked as he tried to calm him down. "Don't worry sir," he swallowed, trying to find the right words. But what were the right words? He had promised them also, Rachel's parents that he would always look out for her and take care of her. What could he possibly tell them that wouldn't fill them with dread? He didn't know about Rachel's condition. He had only been in the waiting room for a matter of minutes and Hiram would be on his way to discover himself what had happened. "She'll be okay," he squeaked, finishing his comfort with a statement of just how strong and brave Rachel was. On the other end of the line, Hiram sniffled again. "I'm getting there as fast as I can," he then sighed and grumbled, "This darn traffic is moving so slowly!" He then beeped his horn and cursed loudly at the other cars. With more tears falling from his eyes and another squeak in his voice, Hiram then asked; "Will you tell Rachel her dad and I are on our way?" His nose sniffled as he explained; "Leroy's trying to get ditch everything but his part of the hospital is run down with some flu the kids are getting and…just tell her we'll be there soon." A tear slipped from Will's eye as he heard the father cry again, mumbling that he'll be there soon. Selfishly, he hoped that Leroy wouldn't be as emotional because he didn't think he would able to handle two crying parents around him, and he didn't think Rachel would be able to either.

Finishing the call, Will promised that he would tell Rachel that they were on their way. Sighing heavily, he ran his hands over his face and rubbed his sweaty palms against his pants legs. Beneath his shirt he could feel his heart thumping fast, slower than before but still a lot faster than it should be. In through his nose he took heavy, deep breaths and pushed them out through his mouth, closing his eyes and trying to calm down. In his mind he was trying to work out what he could say to Rachel and her parents. To Rachel, all he would need to do is shush her and tell her how brave she was being; placate her with praise and comfort, telling her that everything would be okay. Like a delicate flower he would handle her with the most care he could give; both in words and in actions. With her fathers, however, the doctors would tell them medically what was wrong and what had happened – Rachel's dad would have some understanding too, surely, being a doctor himself. But for Will, he would simply be the shoulder to lean on. For Rachel he would be the shoulder to cry on and the strong hand to hold.

Even though he wasn't a parent he could just feel the emotional pain Hiram and Leroy Berry would be going through right now. Leroy, being stuck on the other end of the hospital trying to get out of shifts away from the young patients to get to his own child. Hiram, being stuck in traffic and the only way to release his frustrations and fear at what was happening to his daughter is to honk his car horn and shout at drivers. The bond Will had with Rachel was not a parental one. With the other students in his Glee Club he did hold somewhat of a fatherly figure in the form of a teacher; he was there to guide them and listen to them, show them a path of success but let them make their own choices and be there for them when he was needed. With Rachel, since their attack, she was something more. Her talent showed she was special to the rest of the world – whoever would listen of course – but her spirit and personality showed she was more than just special. There were no words to describe what she was to him. A glow haloed and encircled around her which struck fear into his heart. Thoughts of her flooded him and she wouldn't leave his mind. He had to protect her in a way that was more than a teacher but maybe not in the way of a father. He couldn't work it out. In his dreams he saw her and woke up terrified that she wasn't safe. Her safety was an obsession and now he was more determined to keep this obsession, now she was in hospital.

"Will Schuster?"

His name was called, startling him out of his thoughts. He hadn't noticed his teeth chomping on his bottom lip and could taste the metallic blood on his tongue. He didn't care as he lifted his head and focused his eyes on another nurse. "Yes, that's me." Standing up he called out and began to walk over to yet another brightly coloured dress nurse. She smiled at his petrified pale face. Her eyes were hooded and soft, clearly trying to calm him down but he wouldn't be calm until he knew Rachel was okay. "Rachel wants to see you," she told him, her tone bright and still, trying to not give him too much hope but also letting him know that she was stable. Before Will could speak, only letting out a deep sigh and allowing a tear to slip from his eye, the nurse spoke again. "Her parents aren't here yet and she wants to see you." Of course Rachel wanted to see him. She was more than terrified when she was put into the ambulance and now she had just come around from whatever tests the doctors had run. She needed and wanted a familiar face and to hold the hand of someone she trusted. Her fathers were the first option but Will would make an excellent substitute considering he had been there from the start; yet again. "Thank you," Will cried in a grateful whisper. "Thank you!" With a watery smile he nodded his head and then followed her out of the waiting room, his entire body feeling jittery.

Waking up from having passed out from exhaustion, Rachel blinked and took in her surroundings. Her breathing was shallow and fast. She knew she was in hospital and she knew several tests had been done to her – her blood and pulse pressure had been taken – and she had been put on another dose of morphine to block out and numb the pain. Now she could only feel a dull throb. A doctor had checked her stomach with the use of an ultrasound scan and they located the source of the bleeding. Up at that point, however, the brunette had fallen asleep. She wasn't sure how, but what she did know was that her bleeding had stopped and she had a drip attached to her directing fluids into her body.

Once a nurse came in to check on her, she had mumbled that she wanted her teacher; she wanted Will. "Please ma'am," sniffling she asked the nurse, "Please let my teacher come in. Will Schuster, he came in with me." The nurse looked down on her with pity and sighed, shaking her head at the young girl; "I'm sorry, only family are allowed in." Rachel looked up at the nurse again, shuffling herself up into a sitting position. "Please!" She cried out, wincing at the throbbing pain she felt stab into her. "Please let him in, at least until my fathers come. Please, I'm scared." Tears began rolling down her cheeks and the nurse couldn't help but be sucked in. Closing her eyes for a second, weighing up the pros and cons of letting in a non-family member and concluding that nothing bad or serious could happen, and so nodded her head. "I'll get him for you. Will did you say?" Eyes lighting up, Rachel beamed as big a smile as she could, thanking the nurse. Tired brown eyes watched the nurse leave and walk away to get her teacher, but her lip was captured between her teeth as she waited for him to see her.

Walking through the pristine white corridors was the longest walk of his life. Being an adult he had of course been in hospitals before – visiting sick relatives or having his own check-ups after being in sporting accidents or theatre related injuries (such as falling through a trap door during a high school play) – but he had never really felt this much foreboding. Hospitals were where sick people went to get better. It was also where sick people took their last breathes. Thinking of Rachel taking her last intake of air made him shudder and gasp. The nurse turned around to face him. "Are you all right, sir?" Countless times she had seen visitors struck with fear and nerves as to what they would encounter behind the closed doors or curtains of hospital wings and wards. Will's face and reaction she had seen time and time again. As a nurse she would never stop seeing that expression; wide watery eyes taking everything in – physically, such as the walls, and emotionally, the fear and dread – and trying to keep themselves together, sunken cheeks and pale, grey faces. She smiled at him once she saw she had somewhat of his attention. "Don't worry, sir," she told him in that again slightly cheerful, but more hopeful, voice; "She's going to be okay. She's awake and the doctor has given her something for the pain." Like a dog sensing and hearing the tell-tale signs of food, Will's ears pricked up. "She's in pain still?" He hadn't really thought that much about Rachel's physical state. Yes he knew she was in pain, agony more like it, but he didn't think she'd still be suffering. Again, the nurse smiled and tipped her head towards the end of the corridor to get him moving again. "Don't worry," she repeated and those two words carried on ringing inside his head.

Inside the hospital room, Rachel was biting her lip and holding back tears. The doctor hadn't come in to see her yet, to tell her the results of her tests. Her dads weren't there yet to hold and fuss over her, kiss her head and wrap her up in their warm hugs. At least she knew that Will was only seconds away, coming to hold her hand. Her tired eyes were focused on a blank spot. Her mind was just as blank. All she could remember was the pain. And Will. And Quinn. She remembered Quinn holding her, remembered Will holding her. She felt like she had never been held so much by different people in her whole life. Yes she had obviously been held a lot; as a new-born baby by Shelby for a brief half an hour, by her dads and other family members for the rest of her life after that and three different boys with whom she had small, teenage relationships with. Strangely enough, being held by Will and Quinn felt different than all those other times. With Quinn she felt loved and with Will she felt safe. A different love and safety than all those other times. It must have been the fact she was passing out. Her emotions were all over the place and so was her rationality.

"Rachel?" The whispered voice of the man she couldn't stop think about rang through her ears and she snapped her head to face him. Standing in the door way was her hero and her face crumpled, mirroring his wrinkled clothes, and she burst into tears. "Will!" The teenager cried out in desperation like a toddler waking from a bad dream and within seconds he had rushed over to her and was holding her lithe body against his own. The back of her head was cradled in his big hand and they both shook and shivered together as their tears fell. "Oh Rachel," he shushed, stroking her hair and trying not to get tangled up in the many leads and wires she had coming from her. He tried to take deep breathes but they came out ragged and shuddery.

The brunette in the white bed coughed and spluttered, gripped onto him as tightly as she could, imagining he was one of her fathers. "I was so scared!" She sobbed, coughing again and rubbing her face into his shoulder, inhaling his warm scent. Will sighed and blinked away his tears, remembering that he had to stay strong: not just for her but for when her fathers arrived too. "I know," he comforted, shushing her and pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head. "I know but you're okay now." Even though he made his voice sound strong, he knew it quivered with the fact that he simply didn't know if she was okay. Rachel sniffled loudly again and cried once more, sounding hysterical. "I've never felt that much pain before! It wasn't even as bad as when we had sex! It just hurt so bad, Will. I thought I was dying!" Will suddenly pulled himself away from Rachel and checked to make sure the nurse wasn't in the room. Thankfully she wasn't and she hadn't heard Rachel's confession. Hearing Rachel compare her pain to that of the night of their attack made Will clench his jaw. A thought burst through his head: her being in hospital right now must be because of that night. It was more than likely his fault that she was in hospital. Bleeding. In pain. Suffering. How though? It had been weeks since the attack? Maybe it had just built up? But what could be wrong with her? He didn't have any infections or anything like that or..."You're not dying," he told her, stopping his trail of thoughts. It wouldn't do any good if he speculated what was wrong. "You're okay." He told her with a firm nod.

Rachel fixed her eyes on his and sniffled again. They were quiet for a moment until Will coughed to clear his throat and then said; "Come on, let's get you comfortable." With the tenderness of a father he then made Rachel lean against her pillows and then proceeded to tuck her in. He wanted her to be warm and comfortable, the blankets providing another barrier of safety. "Thank you," she said quietly, shuffling herself a little so she was as comfortable as she could be. "I appreciate you being her."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." He told her quickly, wanting to make sure she understood that he really was there for her. Before he could say anything else, however, the door was flung open and a whirlwind blew in through the door, capturing Rachel in the biggest hug Will had ever seen.

"Oh Rachel!" Hiram cried, holding his precious daughter to his chest, tighter than how Will had held her. Behind him, Leroy was still dressed in his white coat and the green eyed doctor walked in and patted the teacher on his shoulder. "Thank you for being here, Will," Leroy told him. His voice was still, like his posture, clearly he was trying to hold in all of his tears. "No problem," Will replied, keeping his eyes on Rachel and her daddy. Hiram was rocking his baby girl from side to side, and the both of them were pouring their hearts out. Hiram, it appeared, was crying for both Berry parents and Rachel was adding to this tiny ocean they were creating. "I'm so glad you're okay!" The father told his daughter, his voice muffled by Rachel's shoulder. "I don't know what I'd do without you. I was so scared, sweetheart!"

"Me too daddy," Rachel cried, her voice sounding a little hoarse. "I was so scared!"

"Oh my star I was so scared!" Hiram repeated, "I never want a phone call like that again. Ever!"

"I'm so sorry, daddy." Rachel sobbed, bawling more tears. Hiram gasped and squeezed her impossibly tighter. "Don't you dare apologise," he cried out, unable to stop, "You have nothing to be sorry for. We should have done something. I'm sorry I didn't make you get checked out. I knew you were sick but I just gave you chicken soup. Chicken soup!" Sobbing he let go of his daughter, but still holding her hand, and wiped his eyes. "Daddy," Rachel cooed, "Chicken soup usually cures everything, you know that." Will couldn't help but smile at their interaction. Even though the topic was still dark and sad, it was good that it had progressed from 'I never thought I'd see you again' to old Jewish placebos.

At that point Leroy stepped forward to hug Rachel and the doctor cleared his throat. He didn't wait until he had their attention, he simply walked around to the foot of the bed – where Rachel was obviously laying in but now also had Hiram sat with her, Leroy holding her hand on the other side, and Will standing awkwardly near the door. Like an arrogant doctor on television shows, he simply flipped his chart open and then proceeded to scan over it. He sighed and then looked at the teenager. Her weeping was coming to a stop, but tension in the air was still thick with the pending results of Rachel's tests. Leroy focused on the man who looked about twenty years younger than him and waited for him to speak.

"Well Rachel," he began to talk in that deep serious voice doctors always use. He then frowned when he saw Rachel: really saw her. She looked a lot younger than seventeen and he suddenly felt his heart clench a little at what he was about to tell her. "Rachel," he sighed, rubbing his forehead quickly. Leroy widened his eyes a fraction, knowing that tone and recognising the mannerism. He was going to tell them all some bad news and he suddenly gripped onto Rachel's shoulder, as well as her hand, to keep her from the bad news. "I'm not quite sure how to tell you this but," he then paused and looked at the three faces of the Berry family. Will was completely forgotten at this point but the teacher clenched every part of him, bracing himself for the private news he was about to hear. "You've had a miscarriage." And just like that, the bomb had gone off and world froze.

All four people in the room felt like they had been hit by a tidal wave, stung by a jelly fish and run over by plane. This was news they certainly weren't expecting. Well, three of the at least. Away near the door, Will felt his face drain of the last remaining colour. In his stomach he felt the acid rise and mix with bile. He was going to throw up, scream, cry and probably faint all at the same time. For now though, like Rachel, he was frozen from doing or saying anything.

Hiram was the first to speak. He gasped; "What?" and allowed his jaw to drop. His limbs felt no longer apart of his body and yet his legs were heavy and his head was light. "Are you serious?"  
"What are talking about?" Leroy almost bellowed. "Miscarriage…" He shook his head, not believing the diagnosis. "Rachel's a virgin?" He stepped forward, wanting to see the chart for himself but saw the younger doctor back away slightly. "That's what has caused all the bleeding and the discomfort and pain in your abdomen."

"Oh my God." Hiram gasped again, gripping onto Rachel's still shoulders once more.

"That's not all." The doctor confessed, eyeing Leroy carefully in case he were to react badly.

"What else?" Hiram asked, fearing worse case scenarios. "Please not something serious." He begged, followed by his husband's suggestion of; "An infection?"

The doctor then took his eyes off of both parents: scary senior doctor parent and in shock flabbergasted parent. He focused on Rachel, the patient. She looked lost and confused, dazed and completely in shock. It was clear she wasn't expecting this confirmation of what had happened. Her father may say she was a virgin, but it was clear during his examination of Rachel that she wasn't one. Once he had located the source of her bleeding, it was obvious as to what had happened. Following the ultrasound he performed on her, it was more than obvious. All her vitals pointed to this one conclusion. And it was more than evident she wasn't expecting it at all. He spoke as softly as he could to her. Being the 'big scary, to the point doctor' was all he really knew. He felt being detached and unemotional was the best way to go about delivering news like this. Whether it was telling the father with little health insurance that his cancer had returned, the old lady that her heart was only getting weaker and that the child with what he thought was just a rash actually had meningitis, he felt if just appeared nonchalant and uncaring, he would be able to just do his job by treating them and then go home unaffected. The expression on Rachel's face and the distant look in her eyes made him feel…sympathy.

Sighing once more, he shook his head and quickly pinched the bridge of his nose. "Rachel, you have what is called vanishing twin syndrome."

"Twin?" She whispered, still trying to determine what the doctor had said. A miscarriage and now a twin? What was happening? "W…what does that mean?" She stuttered, unable to fathom it all. She knew this could happen with sex – every teenager did, she had seen it with her best friend – but she was sure that Will hadn't…she didn't think. She was too occupied. Too stupid to think about _that _consequence. "It means, Rachel," the doctor began to explain, "That you are still pregnant with the remaining twin." Next to her, Rachel heard the faint cry "Oh my God" from her daddy but ignored it. Actually, it was more she was just too stunned to react to him. "I…I can't believe it." Stuttering she whispered again, even quieter than before. The doctor nodded his head, telling her; "I know this is a lot to take in, but I would like to keep you in overnight and possibly for another day to keep an eye on the remaining twin."

"Could…could I lose that one too?" Rachel asked, scared at the possibility of her losing another baby. Not just the physical pain but the emotional pain too. Now that she knew what was wrong, she felt a sudden selfishness. She had been pregnant. Was still pregnant, but now she had only one baby instead of two. How could she not have known? Not have realised? "I don't want to worry you," The doctor continued, ignoring Rachel's blank expression slightly, "But due to the amount of bleeding, I don't want to take any chances." Slowly the young girl nodded her head again, still taking everything in.

Returning back to his formal manner, the doctor cleared his throat and put on his usual frown. "I'll be round a little later," He informed the three – four – of them and made his way to the door. He then noticed that Will had been standing there all along. He frowned deeper, more for the fact he hadn't made sure to get rid of the non-family member, and then opened the door, ignoring Will all together. "For now I'll let the four of you talk." He told them, leaving before he heard Hiram and Leroy thank him.

Silence.

The room was filled with silence.

For second after second, minute after minute the only noise in the room were the beeps of the machines and the muffled noises outside the room. Each member of the room was taking everything in.

Rachel was trying to berate herself at just how stupid she had been for not being careful and seeing a doctor after her night with Will. She could have said she had sex with her boyfriend and was worried. She should have been more sensible. After everything with Quinn and watching endless teenage pregnancy storylines in movies and on the television…and now she had miscarried and was left to look after another baby. A baby she couldn't quite believe she was carrying.

Will was in his corner trying to work out how this had happened. He knew _how_ it had happened but just not _how _it _could_ have happened. He didn't…at least he didn't _think_ he had...he wasn't aroused and he wasn't…he wept. He hadn't done _that_. He couldn't have! But he could have. How could he have not noticed? Orgasming took effort and strength as well as want and need to do so. He couldn't have? Could he? It didn't matter. He obviously had and now he was…Rachel was…a baby? He couldn't believe it. A baby was all he ever wanted when he was married and then his ex-wife had tricked him and he didn't think he would ever want one after that deceit. But now Rachel was pregnant with his baby. She _was _pregnant with his _twins_ but now…now he felt sick.

Leroy and Hiram were trying to work out how this could have happened. They didn't even know Rachel was sexually active. She wasn't, was she? Was it Finn's? Why didn't she tell her? Why didn't they know? Leroy was a doctor, he should have known! Maybe because they weren't women…maybe because she didn't have a mother.

As the time ticked on, Hiram found to be the first one to break the silence by calling out Rachel's name. And then his daughter spluttered, raising a hand to her mouth and the other to her stomach, pressing on it with her whole palm and trying to feel her baby. Physically she knew she wouldn't be able to feel anything, but emotionally she could. She could feel the hole where her baby once was and the whole where a bit of her heart had also been. She didn't even know she was pregnant, but she knew she felt a strong sense of love and connection to the baby. Both of them. And that spurred her tears on. Two waterfalls fell from her eyes and she cried out like thunder.

"Oh my God!"

"Rachel what…how could this happen?" Leroy asked, his voice strong and stern but with shock not anger.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Will mumbled, pressing his hand to his own mouth and rushing to an empty waste bin that he saw at the foot of Rachel's bed. An unusual place to put it, but he didn't really care as he fell to his knees and vomited. "Will!" Rachel cried out, reaching for him but still keeping her hand on her stomach, protecting her final baby. The two fathers paid the teacher no attention "I'm so sorry daddy! Dad, I'm so sorry!" Rachel bawled looking up at the men she considered gods. Loved them more than anything in the world. She felt like she had let them down. Disappointed them. Brought shame to them. Hiram took hold of the hand that was pressed to his daughter's stomach, fighting against her wriggles and begged; "Just tell us what happened." This was echoed by her dad's demand; "Tell us how this happened."

"I…I…I can't believe it."

"Rachel, just tell us how this happened." Leroy asked, standing over his daughter, trying not to appear angry. "Please, sweetheart," Hiram pleaded, eyes filling with tears at the thought of Rachel not being able to come to him about this _and_ at the idea that she had lost a baby _and _was still pregnant with one. "Who's the father?" He asked, sending Will to vomit and listen more intently at the same time.

"I can't tell you!" Rachel bawled, hanging her head. She couldn't tell them. She couldn't break her pact with Will. "Why not, little star?" Hiram asked, caressing his daughter's cheek. Shaking her head to get away from his touch, Rachel cried; "I can't tell you. I'm just so sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't know. I didn't know. I didn't think, I didn't know! I'm so sorry!"

"Rachel please, we won't be angry just…just tell us."

"Rachel please just tell them!"

The family then looked to where Will was now leaning over the railing at the end of the bed. He was gripping the bar as tightly as he could to steady himself. Tears were falling from his red eyes and his heart was pounding. This was it. This was the moment he had been losing sleep over. This was the moment he was going to be branded a paedophile and a pervert and a criminal.

Both fathers looked to Will with concerned and shocked faces. "What?" Hiram asked, incredulous as to how his daughter's teacher would know who the father was before him.

"Will, you know?" Leroy asked, just as surprised as his husband. So not to vomit again but also out of guilt, Will nodded his head slowly as he admitted; "I do."

"Will, no." Rachel whimpered, biting her lips in a bid to stop herself from revealing their secret. The man didn't look at his student. If he did then he would only be side tracked. Instead he did what he had to do: blurt out the truth. "It was me!" The parents were shocked but Will carried on talking. "I'm the…I'm the one who got her pregnant. It was me. I raped her! I raped your daughter and now I've got her pregnant and I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" Will wept into his hands, mumbling over and over just how sorry he was.

Stood in the hospital room motionless, the two fathers stared with wide eyes at the man they had been calling a hero. In the bed they stood next to, they heard their daughter cry and plead for them to know the truth. Rape? This man, this teacher, this hero, had just told them that he had raped their daughter and gotten her pregnant? Neither could believe it. They couldn't believe that the man was sobbing at their feet, repeating how sorry he was and that their daughter was begging that what he was saying wasn't true. All they knew was, their seventeen year old daughter had just suffered a miscarriage but was still pregnant and she had gotten in this _situation_ possibly by rape by the man they had called a hero for protecting her.

A secret had been spilled and heartbreak had been handed out. As heavy as all that was, the four of them knew that this was only the beginning of a difficult and seemingly impossible situation.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Explanations

**Only a short (ish) chapter. The next few chapters all take place over the course of the same two days. **

**Enjoy :)**

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**Explanations**

Stunned was probably too weak a word to use for the emotions and reactions that fell upon Hiram and Leroy Berry. Really though, how were they supposed to react? Will Schuster – the man that was not only their daughter's teach but the man that supposedly kept their daughter from a vicious attack – had just told them that he was the father to their daughter's baby. They didn't believe it. It was impossible. Surely it was.

First they had been shocked by the news that Rachel was pregnant and now they were being smacked with the information that Rachel had become pregnant by her _teacher_? There was no _good_ thing about this situation. They were expecting…well they didn't know what they were expecting. Rachel fainting and bleeding – almost to death – was not part of their life plan. Her being attacked and then forced to spend the night in a school closet was not part of their plan either, but it had happened and they thought all three (four including Will) of them had moved on. Getting that call to say Rachel was in hospital and suffering with abdominal pain was frightening. Hiram could see she had been ill and he had pretty much ignored it. Rachel was a big girl and she knew how to look after herself if she was sick. Being in the hospital with that kind of pain, the first thought that came to Hiram's mind was that she had appendicitis. It was the only reason he could come up with. It would explain why she hadn't been feeling well and it would explain why she would be in pain. To be told she was _pregnant_ was a gigantic shock. To be told she was pregnant by her teacher, however, was a shock too big he could comprehend. Being told it was through rape? He couldn't fathom it.

For Leroy, he was tied up with too many thoughts to really think properly. Like his husband, he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Will had admitted to them that Rachel was pregnant because of him. Because he _raped_ her. Raped his daughter? He couldn't believe it. Being informed that Rachel wasn't a virgin was one thing, considering how somewhat unusually close the family was, but being told it was because of a teacher raping his daughter? He expected Finn or Jesse or Puck to be the father. He expected a teenage _boy_ to be the father to his daughter's baby, not a grown up _man_. Also, the fact also remained that Rachel hadn't been pregnant with just one baby: she had been impregnated with two babies: twins. And she had now lost one of those babies. Where he could obviously feel his own emotions, he couldn't even begin to imagine how Rachel was feeling. As a doctor he had seen the heartbreak of what having a miscarriage does to women, but to his own daughter? To his still so young and innocent teenage daughter? He couldn't think of what this could be doing to her. Not only had she miscarried but she was still pregnant. His baby girl, aged seventeen years old, pregnant with her own baby…

Standing at the foot of Rachel's bed, Will was shaking and staring at Rachel's parents. They both wore unreadable expressions. Leroy – Doctor Berry, he decided he should call him now – looked somewhere between confused and furious, whereas Hiram – or Mr Berry he would refer to him as now – looked shocked and sad. Sad at what had happened to his daughter and sad at the pure fact he had no idea how he was supposed to react. Although he wasn't looking at her directly, he could see from the corner of his eye that Rachel still wore her frightened, sick, unsure what to do expression. He didn't blame her for her expression. She had been told some devastating, mind blowing news. And she was only seventeen. How the heck was she supposed to deal with this? How were any of them supposed to deal with it? For the moment, however, Will decided the best thing to do was to allow Doctor and Mr Berry to direct all their feelings at himself. If he were in their shoes, an emotion that would be quite strong would be anger. He wanted all of the Berry men's anger to be directed at him: it was his entire fault, after all, and there was no way he would allow Rachel to be yelled at for something that wasn't her wrong doing.

All three of them looked so pale. All three members of the Berry family were some degree of tan or olive skin toned. Hiram was the palest out of the three of them and Leroy was the darkest of them. Rachel was a blend or a mixture of their caramel/olive skin tones. They were all attractive; smooth skin, soft complexions and radiating glows from fairy tale rosy cheeks and loving family smiles. Right now, however, none of them had their usual glows or 'perfect' complexions. Each one looked drained and exhausted. Rachel, understandably, looked the worst, but her fathers weren't far off from looking just as bad. They had all received the same news, Will could only imagine what his own face looked like, especially as he had been sick _and_ was now petrified as to what further reactions Doctor and Mr Berry would have towards him.

Quietly, but with some strong power and force behind it, Will told the men once again what he was incredibly ashamed about; "I raped your daughter." His voice was just as shaky as his limbs and he had to gulp several times to be able to speak properly due to how dry his mouth was. The two men shifted their far away gazes on him. Leroy's eyes narrowed in that spy/action thriller villain way that sent Will's heartbeat soaring with anticipation of what was going to happen next. Hiram bit his bottom lip and continued to rub Rachel's back. He had been providing the comforting action for some time now, and the heel of his hand had gone a little numb. He didn't want to hear the word again. It was a trigger for something horrific to play in his mind. Every time he heard the word – and it was only twice now that it had been spoken – he wanted to cry and cradle his little grown up girl to his chest and never let her go. Still, Rachel didn't react to the comfort her daddy was giving her. Instead she shot her eyes to Will's and scowled as best as she could at him.

Puffy, red and sore; that's what her eyes were at this very moment. Within a very short period of time, the brunette had felt like she'd been rolling down several bumpy hills. She'd been in an avalanche and thrown down a waterfall. Staring blankly at nothing, thumb absently stroking her stomach as if trying to feel her remaining baby and the shadow of the baby she had lost, she didn't think she'd be able to handle any more emotional explosions. As soon as Will had said yet again something she didn't think was true, her damns broke and again she found herself in a battle of technicalities.

"No you didn't, Mr Schue," she sighed, crying out at the same time. "How many times do I have to tell you?" She begged, wondering just how many times and how long it would take for him to understand that he didn't rape her. Still, Will was stubborn. He shook his head and clenched his fists as he walked up to her, crying out; "Until you believe me!" The two of them began their back and forth verbal tennis match: "I raped you Rachel!" "No you didn't Will!" "Yes I did, how can you deny I did?" "Because it's not true!" It was exhausting. Rachel's face was pink with desperation and Will's was turning more and more red with each shake of his fists. In his mind, he couldn't understand why Rachel wasn't demanding him to be removed or why she hadn't turned him in. On the one hand he was grateful but on the other, he thought he was in some sort of parallel universe. What also didn't make sense was why Rachel's parents had thrown him out too?

The shouting match was barely paused as Hiram cried out also; "Why do you think you raped our daughter and why does she not think you did?" He was trying desperately hard not to break down also. Something didn't feel right. If Rachel agreed with Will then there was no chance that he would still be standing there. Usually it was the other way round: the man pleading innocent and the girl pleading his guilt. Here was his daughter, defending her teacher's actions. He was red with rage and yet it was because Rachel refused to believe in his confession. Hiram's head was spinning and he wished his husband would step in and help, however Leroy was doing what he did best: thinking. Will continued to shake his head, now pacing a short few steps and back.

Exacerbated, Will shouted at Hiram; "Because we were forced to do it!" Cursing and crying more, running his sweaty palm through his tangled hair, Will thumped his fists on a nearby wall. The temperature had risen just as dramatically as the volume. The teacher and student were yelling at each other whilst the father was trying to calm them down. Hiram looked at Rachel, who only had eyes for her teacher. Continually she shook her head and bit her lips, trying to stop the flow of streaming tears. With another comforting hand, Hiram touched Rachel's shoulder and got her to look at him. Slowly she turned her head at looked at her daddy straight in his eyes. With a shaky breath, she tried to tell him what had happened. "Those men wanted me to pick between having them sleep with me and Mr Shuster-"

"Which makes it rape, Rachel, why won't you understand that?" Having turned back around from the wall he was leaning on, Will shouted at Rachel. Putting one knee on her bed, he knelt himself down to where she was sitting up and tried pleading with her again but Rachel interrupted him, the same way he had done to her. "Because I had a choice and I chose you to sleep with me."

"You chose me to rape you!"

"You didn't rape me!"

"Stop it!" Hiram cried out. He had enough of the shouting. It clearly wasn't getting them anywhere and he was feeling dizzy with the details. He held onto Rachel's shoulders, not wanting to let go of her or leave her. "Just stop it both of you. This isn't getting us-" But Will shook his head and stood up, off the bed and clambering himself around the bed and reaching both parents.

Standing in front of Leroy and at an angle to Hiram, Will took in a deep breath and tried to control himself. "Doctor and Mr Berry please, I deserve to be punished. I raped your daughter." With each word he spoke, dripped out remorse and shame. He was ashamed of himself, felt disgusted with himself and wanted the two of them to punish him. If Rachel was too naïve to see it, then these two grown, professional men would be able to see sense. On the bed, Rachel pleaded one last time of Will's innocence; "It was consensual, dads. I consented to it." Gritting his teeth, pushing more tears from his eyes, the sweating teacher turned to face the tiring girl in the bed once more. "Nothing about it was consensual, Rachel," he told her, pleading and begging yet again. "You had no choice." With each word he spoke now, he separated them and made each syllable sharp and poignant just to see if that would make Rachel understand his point of view. "You just chose who you wanted to rape you-"

"I wasn't raped!" Rachel screamed, thumping her tired fists onto the bed and sobbing into them once she brought them to her eyes. Hiram held his daughter, shushing her and trying to make her stop crying. Gently he tried to push her back, tried to make her lie down so she could rest and sleep. Like when she was a little girl, a nap would make everything better. She needed to sleep, and then everything would be okay.

Before she could go to sleep, however, they were stunned to hear Leroy speak. "She's right." He said, and he blinked for what felt like the first time since the fighting began. His hand rubbed at his chin and he sighed deeply, walking closer to Will. The teacher was frozen in his position, unsure of what was going to happen. For a second, he thought Leroy was going to punch him in the face and begin demanding for his electric chair to be ready. But then, Will realised what he had said: he had agreed with Rachel. The doctor, the father of the victim, agreed that Rachel hadn't been raped.

Frowning at him, Will tried to speak. His jaw bobbed up and down, but no sound came out. On the bed, Hiram and Rachel looked up and tried to gage what would happen. Rachel was relieved to hear that her dad believed her, but that didn't mean she liked the look in his eyes. Out of the two of them, Leroy was the disciplinarian. Where the man had never and would never raise his hand to his daughter, sometimes when she had been scolded or grounded, his verbal punishments had been just as harsh as if he had slapped her. Now, Rachel recognised the raging yet somewhat calm element to the sparkle in his dark eyes.

"Will," he addressed, stopping closely in front of the teacher. His tone was harsh and his volume was as low as a man's voice could go, reminding Will again of the villain in movie. "You didn't rape our daughter. If you had then you wouldn't be alive right now. If you had raped our little girl I would murder you right here, right now and make sure no doctor could save you."

"Dad!" Rachel coughed out, not wanting him to shout at Will, considering he hadn't done anything wrong. Hiram held her tighter to his chest and the two of them watched the husband and father talk to the man they had all called a hero.

A flash of something flickered in Leroy's eye as he spoke, and Will planted his shaking feet as strongly as he could on the ground beneath him. "But you didn't rape her. You would never touch our daughter or any other man's daughter like that. You were forced into the act and I am grateful," He sighed, closing his eyes momentarily, "So grateful, that it was you and not those men." As he released his breath of gratitude, the atmosphere seemed to relax. Leroy believed Rachel hadn't been raped. Like a barrister he had listened to both sides and picked on. Like a judge he had delivered his verdict. Like a judge and jury, he had found Will not guilty of this crime. And Will could have fallen to his knees and cried out in agony. Why did no one believe him? With a croaky voice, Will tried once more; "But sir, I raped her."

"You may think you did, but you didn't." Leroy told him, walking past the man and taking a seat next to his wide eyed daughter. "Will, you are our daughter's hero and ours." Bringing Rachel to him by the shoulder, he pressed his lips to her head and held her there.

In this tenderly, fatherly kiss, Will saw that none of the family could see any wrong in him. They would never believe what he had done was wrong and he had to shake his head again to clear his thoughts. He was dizzy, feeling sick again. The question of 'why' was circulating through him. It was like a nightmare. He was living in a nightmare where no one was listening to him! No one understood him. No one was going to punish him. No one was going to relieve him of his guilt. _Why does no one believe me? _He asked himself before his attention was brought back to Leroy.

Speaking like a grand figure or a man of importance – which he probably was – Leroy took hold of Rachel's hand and allowed her to rest "Now, you have gotten our daughter pregnant-"

"I am so sorry-" In a breathy please of forgiveness, Will apologised and held his hands out in front of him just to show how sorry he was, for everything. But Leroy acted as if he hadn't even heard him. "But I can only see this as a blessing. Such a beautiful miracle from a horrible event." He turned his head and began to nuzzle his face in his daughter's hair. After all, as a doctor he knew what kind of things could have been wrong with Rachel. When he got that call, saying she was only metres away from where he worked, a million and one things ran through his mind. Yes, having a miscarriage is dangerous and she still wasn't out of danger just yet, the fact that he had her at that moment – alive and well – was all he could ask for. His baby girl was okay, for now, and he would cherish that moment.

After a few minutes of quiet, however, Hiram cleared his throat and stood up. He too began to pace a little, having too many unanswered questions bothering him. Taking his glasses off his face and wiping them yet again with the bottom of his shirt, he expressed the first of many things that came to mind. "I just don't know how this can happen. Or how it could have happened?" He spun on his slippery heel and looked first at Will and then at Rachel. Up until an hour ago, he believed his daughter to be a virgin. With Will being the adult he is, he expected him to know what he was meaning. Rachel was naïve, but she wasn't stupid. He expected Will to apologise again but was shocked to hear Rachel speak up. "The guys," she sniffled and closed her eyes, frowning for a moment as she remembered the horrible night, "The criminals, obviously didn't have any condoms so…so obviously we weren't protected."

Both fathers nodded their heads. It made sense that they wouldn't have any protection and it made sense because…well…they were attacked, why would they have protection?

Hiram then looked at his daughter with another uncomfortable expression. "Why didn't you take a morning after pill, Rachel?" At this question, the teenager looked down at her hands and shook her head; ashamed and embarrassed that she hadn't followed basic personal safety rules: something she had always wondered when watching television that involved teenage or unwanted pregnancies. "I…I don't know," Quietly she confessed, biting her lip and shrugging one shoulder pathetically. "I guess I just didn't think about it."

"Another thing I should have protected you against." Will mumbled, also looking down at the floor, also feeling ashamed for not remembering to say something so obvious and so basic. Shaking her head, Rachel bereft Will softly with a muffled; "Will, don't." But Will of course wanted to argue again. "I'm sorry Rachel but it is true," he scuffed his shoe on the floor and ran his clammy hand over his face again. "I should have told you to take one or…or something."

"I guess the only thing we can do now is decide what to do about it." Hiram spoke up, not wanting another argument. However, as soon as he had said it, time froze yet again and the atmosphere felt suddenly heavy once again.

By saying 'it' implied a lot of things. Did he mean 'It – the situation', or 'It – the baby' or another 'it'. Chocolate brown and autumn hazel locked on each other and more tears began to appear in both sets. "Do you know what you want to do, Rachel?" Will asked, sure that he knew the answer. Biting her trembling lip, Rachel shook her head. "No." Meekly she answered, and then frowned. "Yes. I think I do but…I don't know." Her nose sniffled and snuffled again and Leroy squeezed her a little tighter announcing; "Let's let you rest, okay?" The brunette nodded her head and wiped her eyes. Agreeing that it was probably best she got some rest. Her head was starting to pound with an impending headache from all the crying she had done. She didn't even know what time it was, but she didn't really care. All Rachel did care about was that her fathers believed her. They believed her that Will hadn't raped her and that he was still a good man. All she had to do now was convince the man himself.

Together Hiram and Leroy tucked her into her small hospital bed and walked out with Will following them. Each man turned back to look at Rachel; looking so small and helpless, and each man gulped with knowing things were only going to get more complicated.


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Shout and Scream

**Chapter Fourteen:**

**Shout and Scream Release**

Outside of Rachel's hospital room, Will was jitterier than ever. His hands were shaking and his legs were trembling, something he feared was just going to be normal from now on, and he sighed heavily when he was far away enough. Luckily for him the ward wasn't too busy and so he was able to have a moment to freak out, whilst Rachel's parents were able to embrace and be somewhat alone for the first time since arriving. Hiram was understandably releasing all of his emotions onto his husband's collar, whilst Leroy was still trying to remain collected and under control. As far as they knew, they were the only openly gay couple in the town and the only two men who had raised a child together. Right then and there in that moment however, to Will, they were simply two parents who had tried to remain strong in front of their daughter and were now letting go. Leroy took hold of his now crumbling husband in his arms, hushing him and placing light kisses on top of his head, willing him to stop crying as everything would be okay, Will stretched his arms around his back and then he gripped hold of his hair. Unlike the two men he was standing with, he hadn't been able to hold his emotions and reactions to the news and the situation as well as them. He had already vomited – not much, so it was easily cleaned up – and he had cried several times. Still feeling like he was in a nightmare, he couldn't help but let out a loud groan, he proceeded pace once more, mumbling to himself.

Just a few feet away, behind a closed hospital door was a teenage girl who was carrying his baby. Previously she was carrying his twins! And a few paces away were her parents who appeared to not have much of a problem with it! It was outstandingly…weird. And Will just couldn't stand it. Looking at the two men, Will just couldn't fathom why they weren't yelling at him. Why weren't they beating him their fists and screaming in his face? Before telling them the truth, he imagined them reacting like how he guessed Quinn Fabray's father acted. He imagined Leroy scowling at him and spitting with rage. He thought Hiram would cry but punch him solidly in the face. Where some of their actions may play in to the 'gay man' stereotype – such as Hiram's shrieking exclamations or his love Broadway – they were still men. Both of them looked to be strong and he imagined they would both be able to pack a punch. Leroy, he was sure, could probably knock him out with one good swing of his fist. So why wasn't he lying on the floor, cradling his nose, looking up at them through tears and begging for forgiveness, repeating how sorry he was whilst security held both men back?

It didn't make sense.

"I…I gotta go." He announced through a shaking whisper. Smacking his hands to his sides, he stopped pacing and was about to sprint down the hallway, when Hiram sniffled and asked; "Will? Are you okay?" To which Will turned around and faced the man with an incredulous look on his face. Was he okay? No! No, he was not okay. And looking at the man – Rachel's _father _– trying to stop the flow of tears from his eyes, he couldn't believe yet again that he wasn't bleeding and bruised from being punched and kicked by them both. Shaking his head looking at Hiram and then Leroy with his jaw dropped and wide eyes, Will stuttered and then manage to shout; "Am I…No! No I'm not okay, Mr Berry, I'm not!" His shouts echoed around the empty corridor, and Will hated how loud and angry he sounded. But that was how he felt and he couldn't help it. "Will, don't start calling me 'Mr Berry'." Hiram replied, straightening himself up in Leroy's arms. The two men were still holding each other, their wedding rings managing to glisten in the fluorescent light of the hospital hallway. He shook his head at them, astounded as to why they were still standing there giving him that look. That look of…pity? Why did they pity him? Why did they not hate him?

Shaking his head and pushing his arms out to the side, as if trying to get rid of everything around him, Will refused to answer Hiram with a real reply. "I have to, okay." How could he be so informal with these men? He didn't deserve to call them by their names. He wondered for a moment if he would ever feel comfortable enough and worthy enough to call them anything other than 'sir'. "I have to get out of here." The teacher said, proceeding to turn away from them and starting to walk away. However, he was barely able to turn without Leroy and Hiram's footsteps following him. This time Leroy spoke, his voice slightly harsher. Or was it just stronger than his weeping/keeping it together husband's voice? "Why?" He asked, shrugging his shoulders and holding onto Hiram's hand. "You're going back to school after receiving this kind of news?" Leroy's eyes seemed to be black. His pupils had blown and taken over, or maybe that was just Will's imagination. He couldn't understand why the man was angry at him now and not before.

Still, Will just shook his head and tried to look away from him. "No I'm…I'm not going back to school," he told him, taking in shuddering breaths, "But I can't stay here."

"Why not?" Leroy asked, stepping closer and trying to bear into his thoughts. Again Will shook his head; it was all he could do. The corridor felt too bright and his eyes were squinting through more tears. Swallowing down something, Will looked back at Leroy when he saw him approach him again. "Because Rachel should be with her family right now." Leroy was told, and the father dejected slightly. His shoulders deflated and he sighed, letting the dark black of his eyes morph back into brown. "Will, you are family." He said, calmly and quietly with that tone of compassion, sympathy and pity.

To hear Leroy call him 'family' made Will gasp and then laugh, almost swinging his fist round to knock some sort of sense into him. "No I'm not!" Shouting and almost laughing with disbelief at his words. "I'm just the guy that-"

"The guy that also lost a baby in there and the guy that is going to be a father," Leroy spoke, his voice booming and towering over Will. He had Will's focus. The teacher tried to calm his panting and he stared at Rachel's dad with clenching teeth holding down his bottom lip. With his free hand, Leroy was pointing towards Rachel's room where she was no doubt trying to come to terms with everything that had happened under the pretence of sleep. Stepping closer to the heavy breathing teacher, Leroy lowered his voice again and kept his eyes on those of Will's, urging him to break free from his anger and to transform it into another emotion. One that they could all deal with together. Carrying on from his previous lording sentence, Leroy spoke and his words rang through Will's ears; "The father to our grandchild."

Hearing Leroy's words to sharp and sternly penetrating his ears, Will just slowly shook his head again. It was true. Leroy was right. It was why they were looking at him the way they were. Those looks of pity and sympathy were because…because just like Rachel, he had lost a child. He had lost a baby. Sure, it wasn't a real baby yet, it was just a collection or a bundle of cells, but it was going to grow. The collection of DNA – his and Rachel's – growing inside of Rachel was going to become a baby and a child. A human being. _His_ child. Just like Rachel had lost a twin, he had also lost a twin. For the second time in his life in a space of a few years, he had lost another baby. With his ex-wife who had actually never been pregnant and now with Rachel who had, by no fault of her own, miscarried. If everything went okay, if Rachel was healthy and safe, then in a few months' time he would be a father. A little baby would be born and he would be responsible for it. Right now he was responsible for creating this situation and then within a few months he would be responsible for the life of a new human being. Amazingly that just brought everything full circle. Right now, he couldn't handle the fact that he had impregnated a student and her fathers weren't demanding for some sort of punishment.

Meekly and barely audible to anyone, including himself, Will stuttered out; "I…I...I have to go," and then he shrugged himself together, mumbling "I'm sorry" and he was able to sprint away from Leroy and Hiram/Doctor and Mr Berry, away from Rachel and his unborn child and away from the hospital. Of course, no matter how fast he ran and no matter where he ran to, he was never able to run away from himself. He couldn't jog or sprint or run away from the guilt and the confusion swirling around his head. Not even with the fast speed of the cab he hailed outside the hospital was he able to get rid of the thoughts. He wasn't able to shake them away or thump them away. They were just there. No matter what song he tried to distract himself with by humming along to it on the radio, no matter how many street signs and falling leaves he counted. Nothing could distract him and nothing could get rid of everything that was cascading through his mind. Whenever he blinked he could still see Rachel's tear stained, tear soaked face. He could hear her voice crying out for him. His hands could still feel hers holding onto him. His whole body was consumed with Rachel and their baby and…and the mess they were in. And the entire time, the whole time it took from getting away from the hospital and up to his apartment, he couldn't shake away the fact that Leroy and Hiram still didn't think anything bad of him.

"Why?" He asked the emptiness of his apartment.

Hands trembling once more, he dialled the number of his best friend and colleague: Shannon Beiste. The guilt and confusion was eating him up too much. Rachel wouldn't listen, Leroy and Hiram wouldn't either and there was no way he could open up to someone he didn't know. He needed his friend. He needed to talk to someone and Shannon was the only person he could trust. More than that though, she was someone who wouldn't just tell him what he wanted to hear. Unlike Emma or a few of his other friends, Shannon would tell him exactly how it was. She wasn't one to sugar coat things or let people down gently. She was as tough as the games she coached. And Will needed that toughness. He needed her harsh words and her jabbing finger. He needed to someone to tell him he was right. Shannon would do that. Although she was a tough woman who was by no means girly, she was still a woman who knew about women's rights. As soon as Will would tell her what happened, she would probably slap him across the face and threaten to call the police herself. And Will wanted that. He wanted her to believe him. He wanted her to tell him that what he had done was wrong and that he needed to be punished.

So why wasn't he going to just turn himself in? Because, even though he still knew he needed to be punished, he was still a coward.

Holding his cell phone to his ear, Will waited with baited breath for Shannon to pick up, and those few seconds were painfully long. Now it was classified as 'after school'. The day had been a strange one, and Will couldn't wait for it to be over. Of course with his punishment he was delivering to himself – and that the universe was sentencing him with – it would continue to drag. Shannon would probably in the middle of a pep talk or shouting at whatever squad or team she was coaching. Her schedule was so packed full of sports, Will found it hard to believe she could remember anything else but sports. But then, according to her, it was probably the same for Will; remembering everything to do with music. All the song lyrics and reading different music sheets were foreign to her, just like all the rules and regulations of each different sport were alien to him. It amazed Will just how occupied someone could get when they only focused on one thing. Sadly for him and Rachel they shared now two these that distracted them from other important issues. Where teenagers are told to followed their strengths, they're also told to not let anything else slip them by: to experience everything life had to offer. So why did they both get so wrapped up in what was happening to them at the time of their attack, did they not bother to think ahead and remind themselves of the consequences that _could _and _have _happened?

"Hello?"

It was something Will would probably never get his head around.

"Will? Hello?"

He was an adult! A grown man! A man who had experience with sex and the male body. He should have known, he should have told her! She was too scared and too busy focusing on not crying to have realised. He should have realised and should have known. This was why it was his entire fault. This is why he should be punished-

"Will, are you there?"

"Shannon I need you to come over." Sniffling, Will told his friend. Stood in the middle of his apartment living room, his eyes staring at the brickwork of his fire place, Will allowed his eyes to rain with tears: he allowed himself to cry with the feeling of his own self-pity, self-loathing and guilt overflow and consume him. "Will, are you all right? What's wrong? Is this because of Rachel? Has something-" Because Shannon had said her name – the whole school and beyond probably knew what had happened to Rachel now – Will suddenly broke down, falling haphazardly to the floor and gripping onto the couch cushion. "Please Shannon," he begged through a thunderstorm of tears. "Please just come over. I need to talk to someone. I need you to listen and I…I need to talk to you." Bringing his hands to his face, he cried into his palms and let his phone fall to the floor, disconnecting the call. Soon Shannon would come and he would confess everything. But until then, Will just cried. Into his hands, he howled and cried and sobbed.

Each tear was heavy with guilt and sadness. Each tear was a drop containing all his pain. All he could feel was sadness and blame on him; how could he have let this situation happen? How could he have allowed Rachel to get pregnant? How could he not see that something was wrong with Rachel? How could he allow her to miscarry? One of his babies was dead and all he could think was, how could he not prevent it? It was Rachel's baby but his too and yet he just couldn't feel anything for it. All he could think was how it was his fault. He couldn't comfort Rachel in the way she needed to be comforted. Her fathers would be able to but he couldn't. One of his babies was dead and the other, for now it seemed, was alive. Yet he didn't feel anything. All he felt was his own guilt at his wrong doing. What was wrong with him?

Leroy could be right: he could be considered family, but what family had accepted a rapist? What father could serious call him a father too? Not after what he had done. Why did they not hate him? As selfish as it was, which was probably what he was now, just a selfish man, he couldn't stop but wondering why he was being given so many chances. Chances at being…normal? What was it about him that made this situation okay? He could imagine Finn or Puck or Jesse being the ones to get Rachel pregnant and he could imagine Hiram and Leroy being nowhere near as forgiving and friendly towards them. He should have known better! His students that could have done this were teenagers, kids! They would have been forgiven. This incident would be blamed on their hormones or their stupid teenage brains not thinking right. What excuse did Will have? That he was _forced_ to do it? Yeah, he was forced to do it but he still could have said no. He still raped their daughter. So why was he forgiven?

Bringing him out of his wailing crying spout was the sound of his front door buzzing. It was Shannon trying to get into the building. Not bothering to wipe his nose or eyes, Will crawled out of his squatting position and went to lift the phone off the hook and let his friend in. Whilst she was climbing the stairs (or most likely taking the elevator considering she wanted to get to him as quickly as possibly) Will went about making his face somewhat decent and presentable. Yes, he wanted to show Shannon how bad he felt, how remorseful he was and how much he hated himself, but he didn't want to show her he had been crying. He didn't want her to possibly feel sympathy for him too but he also didn't want her to call him out on crying. Shannon wasn't the best person when it came to crying. Her approach was to slap the crier on their shoulder and tell them to 'man up' – even if they were actual a girl. It usually worked with her football players and hockey players but when it came to non-sporting people, they took her approach the wrong way and ended up crying more. But Will wasn't going to cry. He wanted her to shout at him and he wanted her to finally give him that shameful look of disgust that he had been craving.

Moments later came the sound of thumping and Shannon's booming, deep voice sounding through the door. "Will?" She called out, sounding concerned, "Will are you okay? I got here as soon as I could." Taking a deep exhale, Will straightened his shirt and then opened the door. Like a tornado, Shannon rushed in through the front door and wrapped her huge bear like arms around Will and held him close. "Oh God Will I'm so sorry for what's happened," her voice was somewhat muffled and she patted his back hard, sending thuds around the apartment. "The whole school's talking about what happened to Rachel. She's going to be all right, isn't she?" Shannon then broke away from Will and bit down on her lip. Her thick eyebrows furrowed and she held her hands clasped in front of her, waiting for Will to talk. Instead of answering her question, however, Will just sighed again and motioned for Shannon to come and sit down.

Dressed in her tracksuit, Shannon followed Will and sat down on his leather sofa. Will sat next to her and held his head in hands for a moment. The gym class teacher and sporting coach just sat there and watched, taking in her friend's actions. His breaths were shallow and his nose sniffled every now and again, making Shannon nervous and even more concerned. Then, without raising his head, Will began to speak. His voice was scratchy from his previous crying but he didn't care. "Shannon," he began, only speaking again when he felt her move beside him, letting him know that she was listening. "I…I don't quite know how to tell you this or…or where to begin but…" He then sighed heavily again, lifting his head and looking at his best friend. "But I have to tell you something because it's driving me crazy." Shannon then frowned again and clasped her hands together once more, leaning forward in her seat. "Will, is this about Rachel? She is going to be okay, right?" Again she had said her name and Will sniffled once more, biting on the corner of his lip.

Just as he was about to speak, an image of Rachel flashed through his mind. It wasn't the scared, shaking, timid image of her when she was in the ambulance and it wasn't when she was in her bed waiting for a familiar face of comfort. It was a flash of what Rachel looked like when she was with her fathers. Not when she was in the hospital, but when they were all at dinner together two months ago. She always looked so relaxed and happy when she was with her fathers. They adored her and it was clear she loved them both more than anything. In the hospital they of course fussed over her and wanted to make sure she was okay, but Will remembered how they would hug her, kiss her and beam at her like they had been separated for years. It made the corner of Will's mouth twitch up into a small smile. Once the shock of everything that had happened was over, Will was sure that Rachel would be okay. Her fathers wouldn't let anything else happen to her. Physically, Rachel would be okay. Leroy – Doctor Berry – would make sure of that, and emotionally they would both provide her with an immense amount of love.

Turning back to Shannon, focusing on her as he had been lost inside his thoughts, Will nodded his head and said as strongly as he could make his voice (finding it turning to an almost whisper whenever he spoke about Rachel). "Rachel will be okay," he told her, trying to hold back his smile. "She's with her fathers and the doctors will look after her. She'll be okay." Releasing what appeared to be a huge intake of breath, Shannon sighed and wiped her brow and chuckled a little. "Thank goodness!" She exclaimed, slapping her bare thigh with her pal. "I was so worried about her. The school has been rife with rumours, especially when someone said she was bleeding so much…" Will tuned out Shannon slightly; not wanting to hear what the students and teachers were saying about Rachel. Then, he decided to just cut to the chase. He wanted to stop Shannon talking as that this wasn't why he had invited – begged – her over.

Holding his hand up, he abruptly silenced his friend. "What's wrong now, Will?" Shannon asked and she turned in her seat to face him head on. "You said she's going to be okay-"

"She will be," the teacher said, clearing his throat and bobbing his head, "She's going to be okay but…but I'm…I didn't want to talk to you about her. Not directly I mean." He stuttered, frowning at his words. Frowning again and squinting at him to see why he was acting so strangely, Shannon asked; "What do you mean?" Sighing again, which was starting to annoy Shannon a little bit, Will shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. "I really don't know how to tell you…I need to tell you something," He then sniffled and realised that once again he was going to break down crying. "I have to tell you something that happened between me and Rachel but…it's been keeping me up at night and now with Rachel in the hospital-"

"Look, Will, whatever it is you have to tell me, I'm here for you," Shannon shuffled herself closer to Will and took hold of his hand. "I know that you and Rachel are obviously close now because of what happened to you both, so whatever it is you think is important, tell me and I'll try and help you. You're my best friend, Will, and I want to help you."

"I don't know if you can help me," Will sniffled, feeling a tear drop fall from his eye.

"Well I can't if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"That's the thing, Shannon, I don't know how to tell you."

"You have to Will!" Raising her voice, Shannon slapped her thigh again. "Whatever it is you need to tell me, it's clearly bothering you and I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong." She then huffed; "Look, whatever it is you have to tell me I'm not going to leave you. Especially in this state. I'll let you cry all you want."

"It's…complicated." Will whimpered pathetically. Shannon shook her head and raised her voice again. "I don't care how 'complicated' it is, Will. You called me over here crying like a little baby and I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong."

Another trigger word: baby.

A flash went off in his mind again of the baby Rachel was carrying and consequently the baby she had lost. Like every time he thought of a baby or saw a baby, in his mind he was straight back in that doctor's office with Terri and staring at the lie she was presenting him with. When his student was pregnant and had given birth to her baby girl, he tried not to think that she could have been his baby, had his ex-wife's plan worked. Now he was being presented with the chance of having a baby again; the chance of being a father again. But he hated it. He hated it now because of the situation. Now he imagined Rachel and the baby. She was there, in her hospital bed, pregnant and scared because of him. And he had run away like a coward. Like a selfish coward.

Letting out a sob, Will covered his face with his hands and cried out what he had been trying to tell Shannon; what he had wanted to tell someone for such a long time. "Shannon," he began, his shoulders shuddering and his stomach heaving with his heavy cries. "Shannon, I did something awful. I…I've done something to Rachel I've even thought of doing to anyone. I…I feel disgusted and ashamed and I can't stop the guilt. All I feel is guilt. I'm sick with quilt and anger and-"

"Will, stop you're not making any sense!" Shannon told him, removing his hands from his eyes so she could look at him. His entire face was blotchy and red, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Her face softened as she took in his appearance even more. Deep heavy bags were under those red, tired looking eyes and his skin was a lot paler than usual. Or at least, it had been getting paler and paler as the days went on. Pursing her lips and deflating slightly, Shannon spoke to Will in a softer voice; "Will, you need to calm down and just tell me exactly what it is you need to tell me." Beside her, Will sniffled once more and tried to calm himself. He really didn't want to cry, but it appeared to be the only thing he could do.

Reluctantly, he calmed down and swallowed a few deep gulps. Within a few seconds, his future friendship with Shannon would be tested and re-evaluated. Taking one final deep breath, Will looked away from Shannon and gripped his fists tightly together. "Shannon," he sighed, "When Rachel and I spent the night in the closet together…you know we were attacked." Shannon nodded her head, saying that everyone knew they were attacked. "Well, where I was beaten to a pulp, Rachel was left untouched. Practically untouched anyway." His eyes slid over to look at Shannon's face, curious as to see how she would react. However, he hadn't really told her anything yet, so she simply nodded her head again, encouraging him to carry on. "Those guys were…I can't even put a word to what they were. They were disgusting. They frightened Rachel and they wouldn't let her go even though I begged them to let her go. But…but what they made her do. What they made _me_ do to her." For a moment he was lost in his memories. He remembered the night clearly; how the ring leader touched Rachel and tried to kiss her, how he spoke to her. He remembered everything of that night and he wished more than anything it had never happened. "What I had to do to her…what I did to her is something I just can't forgive myself. And now that…now what's happened…I just can't seem to-"

"Will," Shannon stopped him before he lost her again. "What did you do?" Timidly, Will looked up and over at Shannon and saw the confusion but also the fear for what he was about to say written on her face. Biting his lips, he then told her the truth. He confessed to her what he had done. "I raped Rachel and now she's pregnant with my baby."

At the confession, Shannon jumped off the couch and started yelling. There was no break between Will telling her what he did and her getting away from him. Her reaction was how he expected Leroy and Hiram to react. But the difference between his expectation and the reality was that Shannon was just shouting. Her shouts weren't accusatory but they were questioning him; meaning that she also thought he was mistaken. "What do you mean you raped her, Will? That's impossible!"

"It's not impossible-"

"Yes it is, Will! It's completely impossible. You're he teacher! You wouldn't do anything wrong!"

"And yet I have."

"No…No you haven't. You're wrong."

"How can I be wrong? I was there, you weren't."

"I don't…Why would…how?"

"Shannon, please, just say you believe me." Will begged, standing up, still squeezing his fists together. Shaking her head, Shannon asked; "What do you mean 'believe you'?"

"Rachel and her parents don't believe that I raped her."

"What?" Shannon shouted again, moving away from him and throwing her arms in the air. "What do you mean Rachel doesn't believe you? And her parents don't believe you?"

"Rachel thinks that I didn't rape her because she consented and I was forced to do it-"

"Will, you're not making a donkey bit of sense."

"What more sense is there? Those guys were either going to rape her or I was!"

"What? You need to explain more."

"They were going rape Rachel but I wouldn't let them, so they gave Rachel 'the choice'", he told his friend, using air quotations. "They wanted her to pick between who she would rather be raped by and she picked me."

"Hold up Will-"

"It was disgusting, Shannon! She picked me because she knows me! She wanted me to rape her instead of them and I…I did it! I raped my student and now I've gotten her pregnant!" By this point Will was crying hysterically again and Shannon strode over to him, holding him by his shoulders.

With a few shakes, she managed to get him to look at her. "Will, you have not been making any sense. You're saying that they were going to rape her, so you took their place?"

"And Rachel says that this isn't rape because, according to her, she consented to it but that's not consent, Shannon! It's not consent because it was still doing something she didn't want to do. I know she didn't want to do it. She was crying and begged me to stop and…and I raped her Shannon!" Will cried more and more, so Shannon moved him over to the couch again. She wanted to calm him down but only so she could get a fuller picture of what he was talking about. Before she could get him to explain again or to do anything else, he began to speak. "I just feel so guilty." His shoulders sagged and he wiped his eyes again. His sobs were coming to an end and now his anger was beginning to come through more. "I haven't been able to sleep since it happened. Every night I hear her screaming and I see her crying. I can't help but need to know where she is at all times. All this guilt is eating me up inside and what makes it worse is that she doesn't believe me. She doesn't think I did this horrible thing to her." Will shook his head again, groaning at how much his head pounded and how much he just wished again for this whole situation to be nothing more than a nightmare.

For a short few minutes, Shannon was quiet. She was taking everything Will had said in. She couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe what Will had told her. Forgetting the fact that Will had said he had impregnated Rachel – something she really didn't want to think about – she couldn't believe that Will had actually…possibly raped a student. Sleeping with students was, of course, against the law. Having any type of relationship with a student beyond that clear teacher/student boundary was somewhat frowned up (unless they were your parents or a relative or something like that). Hearing her best friend and colleague say what he had done was…horrible. But what didn't make any sense was what he also said; that Rachel believed she had consented. Listening to Will and understanding the circumstance, she could see both sides. To some degree. Her head was spinning and she had only just been told of what had happened. Looking at Will, she could see now why he was so tired. When she went to bed that night, or even when she left his apartment, she didn't think she would be able to think right either. Her first thought was 'poor Will' and the second was 'poor Rachel'. To not only of being held somewhat hostage, being beaten and now being told that sexual violence was involved…she couldn't believe the police hadn't picked up on it. But, then she didn't want to think of the police right then.

Smacking her lips together, Shannon put her hand on Will's thigh, trying to be comforting. "I don't think you raped her, Will." Softly she told him, hoping to ease his worries. However, her simple statement backfired. Will snapped his head to side to look at her; his eyes dark and frowning at her. "What? Have you not been listening-" But she didn't let him continue. She knew that right now, whether or not he did it was not the point. Right now, all she cared about was her friend's wellbeing. "You need to talk to someone about this Will," Using a stern voice she told him. "You need to do something to get rid of this guilt and this anxiety. You need to-"

"What?" Will yelled, his anger getting the better of him. He threw her hand off his thigh and glared at her. "What Shannon? What could I possibly do to make this better? To get rid of my guilt? Because I've already told her frigging fathers! We confessed to them, and they don't think I raped her but I did! I impregnated their daughter through rape. I mean it's bad enough but I raped her-"

"Will if they don't think you did then maybe you didn't?" Shannon shouted back, trying to keep calm but ultimately failing. Will shook his head and smacked his own thighs in frustration. "This isn't a matter of opinion, this is matter of fact!"

"Then maybe to clear your conscious you need to turn yourself in."

There it was. There was the one thing he had wanted to hear all along. Beside her, Will deflated slightly but he kept his strong voice and posture. "You think I should?" He asked, more like a statement than a question. Shannon held his stare for as long as possible, but ultimately she lost the game. She broke eye contact and shrugged. She didn't want him to turn himself in, but just like going to a priest to confess for a sinner, maybe going to the police and confessing to them what he thought he had done would be good for Will. "I don't know," She shrugged with all the honesty she could muster up. "I…I don't think I want you to in case they lock you up but-"

"But maybe I deserve it."

"I don't think you do," Shannon told him. She then shifted so she was facing him straight on again. She wanted his full attention. "Will, you were forced to rape her. In fact no, you were forced to have sex with her. Like you said, she was forced to pick. You are both innocent in this, it's _them_ who are the guilty ones. Not you and her."

"But I-"

"I know," She boomed, trying to silence him before he explained the whole thing all over again. "I know that you think you did it and that she didn't have a choice but Will, you didn't rape her. I'm sure you didn't." Shannon stared at him, watching as all the cogs and wheels went around his brain. He thinking yet again of all the consequences and how everything could turn out if he turned himself in.

Sighing once more, Will stood up and paced his living room. "I can't just keep wallowing like this," He told her, not looking at her. It felt more like he was talking to himself than to Shannon but she didn't mind. She was simply there as a release. "I need answers." He announced in a strong whisper but loud enough for her to hear, even with his back turned to her. "What do you mean?" Shannon asked, somewhat timidly, afraid of the answer he was about to give her. She stood up and walked near to him. Slowly, Will turned around and looked at her like a defeated man. "I need to turn myself in. I need this nightmare to be over."

"You need help." Shannon told him, in the voice of a typical television therapist; dramatic but to the point. Will yelled at her; "I need to be punished!" And Shannon yelled back, hoping to get some sense into him; "You need compassion and help, Will! Something the police aren't going to give you if you walk up to them and confess to something that might not even be rape!"

"I need to do something. I need to make this guilt and pain go away. But I need Rachel to be okay. She's having my baby…God…this is so messed up." Will whined, going back to plop himself back on his couch. His head rolled back and his hands rubbed at his red, sore, tired eyes. For a moment, Shannon watched as he tried to calm himself down.

Once she saw that his chest wasn't rising and falling quite so fast, she approached him slowly and sat down, telling him; "It'll all be okay." To which Will gave a dry chuckle, clearly not believing her at all. His head rolled to the side and he looked at her. With squinting eyes, shrugged his shoulders and meekly asked; "How do you know?" Next to him, Shannon made him sit up so that he could see her and focus on her properly. "I don't," She told him, her southern accent ringing loud and clearly through the apartment once more. "But listen to me," Her pointer finger jabbed him hard in the shoulder and she enunciated each word. "If you turn yourself in, then who knows what'll happen."

"Maybe that's a good thing," He sighed, leaning forward slightly, "Because right now I still don't know what'll happen. I'm in limbo here, Shannon. I don't know what's going to happen to me and I don't know what's going to happen to Rachel. As for the baby-"

"Look, whatever does happen I'll be here for you," Shannon told him, this time patting his shoulder and rubbing the back of his neck. Under her fingertips she felt all the strain and the stress. He was knotted and tangled more than the entire football team's shoelaces put together. Will smiled pitifully at Shannon as she attempted to get rid of his stress induced knots.

There was nothing he could say. Instead he just let her try and get the knots out and he allowed his thoughts to wander back to the young woman back in the hospital. He pictured her sad little face and imagined her holding her stomach. He hoped she was sleeping but he doubted she was. At least not peacefully. He knew her fathers weren't going to leave her side and then he felt even more ashamed. He had left her even though he had promised her he wouldn't. Once again he had broken his promise to her and he realised what a coward he truly was. Once more, his guilt was amplified and more knots began to form.


End file.
